Author's note: Here it is, the promised new chapter, delightfully long even for my own ridiculous standards. Or at least I hope you'll find it so, and not get bored to tears before you reach the end of first half, with all of my descriptions and dialogues and probably not enough time skips.

Before you get started, I really, really want to thank all of you for your support. I'm only starting to respond to the reviews properly, but please trust me when I say they mean a lot to me. DrinkThemIn, Lavinia Maxwell, geeklovertz, oz diva, Kalewis82 and all the Guests that I can't call by name - thank you. You are all gems.

Alright! That would be all from me now. Now read on that chapter and have fun!

Love,
annewithagee

Chapter 6
Anne takes on nursing

And then she simply resumed her meal, blind and deaf to Gilbert's behaviour, patiently waiting for Mrs Lynde to finally join them downstairs.

And join Mrs Lynde did.

She greeted Gilbert enthusiastically for the second time that day after she had greeted Anne for the first; she poured herself a generous cup of tea and sank down on the chair nearest to her, bluntly announcing how exhausted she felt, and then she confounded her own statement by jumping to her feet and marching across the kitchen in the search of a task that could occupy her in another way; and when at last she realised that no such task was to be found, she sighed deeply and, resting her gaze on the two young people sitting before her, she stated that there could not be a greater blessing for the household than the pair staying where they were now.

Anne chuckled awkwardly at her words and glanced at Gilbert, expecting him to send her one of his old, playful glares, followed perhaps by a discreet roll of his bright hazel eyes. She felt a pang of disappointment when she found him studying his cup instead, as if suddenly the thought of sharing glances with her had been the last of his concerns.

Which it probably is, she thought immediately and involuntarily. She shook her head at her own silliness, resolved not to waste the precious little energy she still possessed on fancies and musing of no use; she returned to her breakfast, biting into her toast with a new zeal that surprised even her.

"I'm going to stay with Marilla today," she announced as soon as she had swallowed the first mouthful, her voice ringing with determination both of her companions knew so well. "I unpacked everything last night, so there is nothing to keep me from going to her as soon as I've finished breakfast… And you, dear Mrs Lynde, may finally get some of the rest you undoubtedly deserve."

"Hush, hush, now," Mrs Rachel protested in an instant, as if offended by the assumption that she could ever truly tire at all. "I am not as overworked as you think I am, even though I complain about it a little; however, I certainly won't oppose to you looking after Marilla, especially as taking care of her is the main reason of your coming here in the first place… And it does give me an opportunity to finally make a good use of the kitchen. This family haven't had a proper meal since Marilla's first collapse and I say we could all benefit from a change."

"I am sure you never would have allowed that!" Anne said, slightly more at ease, amused by the impossibility of the vision that had been painted before her. "I have seen with my own eyes how effective you can be, Mrs Lynde, no matter the circumstances. I very much doubt anything has changed in that regard."

"And I'm afraid the circumstances you have in mind did not include Davy and his never-ending queries. He really is a dear lad, but sometimes he is just too much for anyone to handle."

Anne smiled genuinely at that. "He is a twelve year old boy, Mrs Lynde, he is bound to get himself into scrapes every once in a while. I wasn't a boy and just think how much trouble I could cause! And yet, I dare say I grew up decently. Davy won't be any different, I'm sure."

"Oh, I know he won't," Mrs Rachel conceded to the opinion. "That is why I'm not really worried – only that still doesn't change the fact that he can be a nuisance, even if the most loveable one. He really knows how to distract one from their work, that's for sure and certain… and that's a problem even with everyone on their feet."

"Would you rather I took care of him, then?" Anne asked a little hesitantly, quietly hoping that the answer to her question would be a negative one.

All Mrs Lynde needed was a glance to see right through her.

"No," she said confidently, smiling a bit more widely after she noted the relief that had washed over the girl. "He and Dora won't be back for a good few hours and I should be done with the cooking by then; whatever Davy has in store for us today, I can deal with it, as long as there is nothing else on my mind. And since you will be looking after Marilla… Why, I'd say we will manage perfectly well. As long as Davy does not come searching for academic answers, at least."

"Perhaps I could be of some use if he does," Gilbert offered then, finally joining the conversation and immediately having the ladies bestow all of their attention on him. He smiled somewhat sheepishly before explaining. "I have never claimed to be as good a teacher as Anne was but I still believe I know enough to resolve his most basic doubts. In fact, I could try to busy him in other ways as well, so you don't have to worry about having him under your feet half the time. If you want me to, of course."

"You'd do that?" Anne asked in disbelief, eyeing him carefully. "Even if it meant staying here for so much longer?"

Gilbert merely shrugged in response. "I told you I didn't have much to do anyway, and I'd rather stay here and be useful than wander around my house, convincing my mother that I really don't need any more of her feeding," he said with a playful grin tugging on his lips. "And they never let me do any work there on my first day back, either."

"But won't they want to see you? Surely, you don't want them to find out about your arrival from anyone else but yourself, do you?"

"I don't; but you see, I did plan to see them today and earlier than this evening. I thought I might actually go home around noon -" here he turned to face Mrs Lynde, as if asking for the permission he did not need. "That way I could have some work done here before I leave, while still being able to spend the lunchtime with my parents – and then I'd simply come back here and take over Davy when he does as well."

Anne nodded absently, silently pondering over his words, thinking with dismay that his offer was a little too generous to be so easily accepted, while simultaneously realising how small was the chance of her convincing him to change his mind.

"Are you sure it isn't too much?" she asked at last, her question more of a formality than anything else.

"I am," Gilbert confirmed readily. "And really, Anne, I know what I'm doing. There is no need for you to worry over me, too."

"Well, in such case..."

"We thank you, Gilbert," Mrs Lynde cut in before Anne could trail off, as she undoubtedly would have had it not been for the older woman's intervention. "It is indeed a very good plan, and a very reasonable one. I admit I was slightly worried about Felicity's reaction to your staying away for too long, even if for such noble reasons… but you have just solved that problem for us. As for helping Davy, I'm sure you won't let him walk over you and that's the only thing to be concerned about when it comes to him."

"We will be alright, Mrs Lynde, I promise," he answered her patiently. "We have always understood one another well, and I have always liked him, too. And I doubt he's any worse than I or my friends were at his age. Besides, I think it may do us both good to dust this old acquaintance a little."

"Well, all is settled then," Mrs Rachel announced, rising from her seat and straightening up a bit, back in her element of managing those around her and giving orders necessarily linked to that particular task. "Anne, make haste on that breakfast of yours, so we can fulfil your wish and go to Marilla at once. I will tell you everything you need to know when we're there, so you don't have to worry about doing something in a wrong way – although to be fair, I think you have too much sense to do anything of the sort, with or without my guidance. You, Gilbert, must wait for me here; I will be back in a few minutes at most and then we will discuss your share of duties for today. Is that clear, you two?"

Anne bowed her head in confirmation, hiding the grin that blossomed on her lips in response to Mrs Lynde's imperious speech behind the rim of her cup. She risked one more glance at Gilbert and found the joy that he was equally amused, and that this time he did not mind sharing his cheerfulness with her, giving her the same look she had intended for him. Her smile widened; her eyes sparkled with hope.

Yes, the day promised to be a long one, indeed.

And yet, she could not help but think it would be better than she had ever expected it to be.

Once again, she returned to her meal, rightly assuming that Mrs Rachel would not allow her to linger on it for much longer after she had already set another goal for them to aim at. She was, indeed, correct: hardly had she had the time to swallow the last bits of her toast when she realised that the older woman had found her way to her chair and was now waiting impatiently for the moment when they could move on to the next task. Still a little amused, Anne did not protest, except for her gentle suggestion that she should, perhaps, wash the now empty dishes first. Mrs Lynde objected to that argument in an instant, bluntly announcing that she she could do so while explaining her plans to Gilbert afterwards, and that there was no need to waste their time on it now.

"I am not going to chat with the man doing nothing, while you take care of the job I can do myself, instead of looking after Marilla as we agreed you should be doing. Now stop opposing me, child, and do as I tell you – Marilla has been left unguarded for long enough and even if she is still sleeping, we should not have left her alone for this long."

This last argument was enough for Anne to give up the discussion. With nothing more than a nod she stood up from her chair, giving Mrs Lynde to understand that she was ready to follow her upstairs, not really bothering to excuse herself before her other, younger friend.

She knew a smile was enough for both of them right now.

As the ladies went upstairs, Gilbert stayed in the kitchen, patiently waiting for the older one to return, wondering if maybe he should take the task of cleaning upon himself, idly pondering over how Mrs Lynde would react to such boldness on his side. She had made herself quite clear earlier, after all, even if her imperious statement had been mostly meant to talk Anne out of her own ideas at the time.

Besides, he still was nothing more than a guest in this house, and one who in the course of the previous two years had almost earned himself a name of a stranger, too. No matter how kind or cordial Mrs Lynde had always been towards him, he could hardly imagine her appreciating him rummaging through her kingdom of a kitchen on his own – and his own noble intent could not be of any meaning to her, either.

He was spared any further musing on the subject when the lady in question reappeared in the room again, as ready to set him to work as she was to start on her own. Gilbert was more than grateful; he knew himself well enough to realise how easy it was for him to succumb to the thoughts of his past, so tightly bound to the place at which he was staying now. It was a dangerous sentiment and one he did not mean to feed – and any distraction from his own mind was in his eyes a most welcome one.

The list of tasks Mrs Lynde had prepared for him held no great surprises: a fence that needed mending, a stack of branches waiting to be burned, which he had yet to recognise as the remnants of the magnificent and lovely Snow Queen. He accepted each of the many jobs with a resolute nod, finding with satisfaction that even though they might have seemed insignificant at first, they were clearly more than a mean to satisfy his need to prove himself useful; that even the smallest of these tasks, if carried out decently, meant a real, tangible benefit to the homestead and the family that lived off it.

Not a farmer himself, yet still a son of one, he could easily understand that much.

He appreciated it for his own sake alone.

The morning hours flew by for all: Gilbert, eagerly doing the assigned work outside the house and finding new when the former didn't seem to be enough; Mrs Lynde, finally free to rule in the kitchen again and thus determined to make the most of the time so unexpectedly given to her.

And lastly, Anne herself who, finally allowed to take real care of her sick guardian and friend, had thrown herself into her new duty with such vigour that Mrs Rachel had to quite literally drag her away, while simultaneously explaining that, yes, it had indeed been late enough for her to go downstairs and have some lunch.

Albeit unwillingly, Anne yielded to the order and allowed Mrs Lynde to lead her to the lower floor and to the wide table that somehow had become the beating heart of her home; and then found with astonishment that they were the only ones to sit by it this time.

"Shouldn't we wait for Gilbert?" she wanted to ask, seeing her companion pour the steaming tea to their cups; only to remember with embarrassment what he had said about spending the lunchtime with his parents only a few short hours before. The sudden feeling of disappointment was soon overshadowed by dismay and resentment towards herself, and had she not been so weary, it could easily have turned into anger as well.

How silly of me, she chided herself, hoping that neither her emotions nor the little inner monologue she was having with herself now were noticeable to Mrs Lynde's watchful eye. To ponder over his absence when he has so plainly announced and explained it to me – and when there is so much to worry about it beside that! Oh, so not only am I silly – am I to be ungrateful, as well?

Anne sighed heavily, no longer able to keep her sorrows to herself. She had yet to learn that it is usually the time of trial that makes us seek and wish for comfort that another person's concern can give; and that such wishes do not diminish the genuineness of our loyalty to those for whom we are worried in our turn. Her sorrow was too fresh to fully realise that truth – but the consciousness of it was waking up in her and it was not long before she would understand the full meaning of it.

For now, however, she remained blind, her disdain for herself reflecting in her posture in the same way her miserableness did. Mrs Rachel saw it and judged it well; and it was for that latest reason that she made no remark, nor did she object when Anne asked to be excused so soon, so that she could go back to Marilla and spend the rest of her day by that so dearly loved woman's side.

Anne's afternoon was spent even more quietly than her morning had been. For hours did she sit in the small but tidy bedroom, doing little else than watching Marilla, who on her part remained quiet for most of the day; still too weak to comprehend the situation around her or even the fact that her beloved girl was the one to nurse her.

Anne would not leave the room again – and she certainly wouldn't do so for reasons as trivial as tea, and even the idea of Dora and Davy waiting for her so impatiently could not make her waver in her decision.

"I will go down soon enough for dinner," she protested in a voice much weaker than she intended it to be. "Please, don't think I haven't missed the twins and more importantly, don't let them believe so. But I cannot go just yet."

Mrs Lynde tried to argue some more after that but, having neither the time nor means to successfully persuade the young and very red-headed woman in front of her, she gave up eventually, resigning herself to attending those of her charge who awaited her downstairs. However, when Anne refused to have any dinner as well, Mrs Lynde decided that even her patience had at long last ran out.

"Even self-sacrifice has to have some limits, Miss Anne," she said sternly. "You are here to help Marilla, not to kill yourself doing so. What do you think she would say if she saw you make such a scene over it? Fiddlesticks, that's what!"

Anne bowed her head but made no other answer.

Mrs Rachel exhaled with exasperation. "As I live and breathe, Anne Shirley, I have never met a girl more stubborn than -"

"Can I at least have it a little later?" Anne pleaded suddenly, raising her eyes on Mrs Lynde. "If I go there now, there will be talking and questions and it will take so much more time that if I could just have it alone. I will eat after you've finished; I promise you I will. Just… Please don't make me go there now."

"And don't you think you owe the twins some of your time, too?" the other woman asked implacably. "Or Gilbert, for that matter?"

"Gilbert will understand," Anne answered faintly "And I will see Davy and Dora before they go to sleep – and I'll make it up to them tomorrow, too! Only… now…"

"You cannot go; yes, I've heard that," Mrs Lynde finished with a heavy sigh and shook her head at the frantic girl seated before her. "Let it be your way, then, Anne, but know it is the last time I agree to your pleading – I'm expecting you to help me outside of this room tomorrow, and if you try to skip today's dinner, you can be sure that I won't allow you inside it for the next week."

"Thank you," was all Anne cared to say, standing up and pressing a soft kiss to her elderly companion's cheek. Mrs Lynde could not help but smile; be she left the room shortly after all the same.

Now, many things could be said about Anne Shirley. That she was stubborn was a widely known fact; that she could change her mind and make astonishing choices was a truth known to few, and only those who knew her best (until, of course, the word of her rejection of Roy got out, she thought grimly). She was, however, a woman of her word; and if she had promised Mrs Lynde she would leave her post and dine, that was exactly what she would do.

After all, dishonesty was the one sin no one could accuse her of.

She went downstairs, praying that she would not meet anyone on her way there, and scolding herself fiercely for allowing any such thoughts. Her pleas must have been heard, however; and consequently, her own qualms only grew. But she was glad nevertheless, enjoying this silent, lonely meal as much as she could, given the circumstances she had found herself in.

She had only just put the last of the dishes in place and was about to go and see the twins as she had promised she would… When she heard the door creak quietly and open, revealing a very pale, very worn out, and very satisfied Gilbert Blythe.

"I didn't expect to find you here," he said enthusiastically, his eyes sparking with a sudden reflection of joy. "You didn't come down for dinner for so long, I was sure you'd foregone it altogether."

"I'm afraid Mrs Lynde would never allow that. You know it, Gilbert," Anne answered shyly, embarrassed both by his pointing out her behaviour and the unexpected feeling of peace his appearance had brought. "She threatened not to let me look after Marilla if I didn't, and we both know it's a threat she would have no problem fulfilling."

Gilbert shook his head with worry. "I'm glad she did, or who knows what you might end up trying next. You really are overdoing it, Anne-girl."

"Anne-girl?" she bristled, newly astonished. "Why, am I truly such a child in your eyes to deserve such nickname, Mr Blythe?"

"Well, you're not exactly being a reasonable adult now, are you?" he contradicted her readily and walked over to her; he saw her blush at the comment and even wondered at the sighed for a while, but said nothing of it. "Come, I didn't mean to mock you – I'm simply glad there is someone here to look after you when you're too busy caring for Marilla to do so for yourself. Even if it's by the means of blackmail sometimes."

"So the end justifies the means?"

"In this case yes, I believe it does." Again, Gilbert's answer was firm and yet, not at all void from that concern that she could hear in his voice from the start. "You must take good care of yourself if you want to help others – that rule is as obvious as it is true… and besides, I really don't want to argue with you right now."

"Any special reasons for that?" Anne responded, forcing herself to sound lightly again, so she could finally match his earlier tone.

Gilbert smiled fondly at her. "No other than the usual – that, and the fact that it's a little too late hold a proper discussion right now; and I'd hate to part before we could possibly make up."

Anne returned the smile, even though her exhaustion made it impossible for it to reach her eyes.

She understood his meaning perfectly, realising that his unforeseen entering was not to be followed by a longer stay. He had, most probably, only come to pronounce his work done, and to wish her family a good night before he went to meet with his own. All of the sudden, she felt she did not want to see him go; but go he must, she knew, and there was nothing she could – or would – do about the matter.

His next words confirmed what she had already believed to be true.

"I'm assuming Mrs Lynde is with the twins right now," he said simply. "I was hoping to see her and report the progress with the repairs but then again, there isn't much to tell except that we've managed to finish almost every task she had given us, and I don't doubt that Davy has already told her all the details she needed to know. Or more than that, if I know him at all," he added playfully.

"I'll make sure to repeat what you've said to her anyway, so that she knows that Davy isn't exaggerating this time. Is there anything else you'd like me to pass along?"

"Nothing but my best wishes of a good and peaceful night for all. But I've kept you long enough, Anne – I'm sure you'd rather be with Marilla now than chatting here with me. So once again, goodnight – and I hope it will bring you rest, too."

He turned around then and walked towards the door, ready to see himself out without any further assistance. As for Anne, she was quite determined to let him do just that… until he turned around again to bid his final goodbye and she realised that she was not at all willing to part with him like this.

"I'll walk you to the gate," she announced abruptly, silently praying that her agitation was not as ridiculously obvious to him as it was to her. "I've promised Mrs Lynde that I'd come to see the twins before I sit with Marilla again, but I have no place there until they are done preparing for sleep. So you see, I have a few minutes to spare anyway – and I could certainly use some fresh air, too. I haven't left the house since we got here last night."

"Far be it from me to discourage you, then," Gilbert assured her readily, opening the door for them and keeping them so until they were both safely on the other side of the threshold.

The night around was quiet. No wind was howling, neither near nor far; no sounds echoing, except for the distant murmuring of frogs and the gentle rustle of leaves, moved carefully by the same breeze that now came to caress their own cheeks as well. No words were spoken and few glances were shared as they walked towards the gate, the same by which they had had their first real chat as friends and which had witnessed so many such conversations in the years to come.

Still silent, Gilbert removed the primitive blockage and pushed the gate open; and yet, he made no other move, except turning ever so slightly towards Anne, fixing his gaze on her face with both fervency and dismay, as if fighting his own urge to speak, not sure what it was that he wanted to say exactly.

He opened his mouth to do so; only to hear Anne speak to him instead.

"Will you come tomorrow?" she asked unexpectedly, in that moment realising that it was this very question that had made her follow him, that specific need to ask him what she had not dared to ask before. Her eyes were wide with anticipation as she waited for him to respond; but she said nothing more.

Gilbert made no immediate answer, too surprised by her words to form his own, and chose to continue to look at her instead. His gaze was steady, yet it was intense, his features schooled properly, even though his heartbeat was once again speeding up.

With the smallest frown he leaned down and asked, "Do you want me to?"

Anne's eyes met his and for a second she, too, was too taken aback to make a firm, coherent answer. The evil spell didn't last long, however; and in the next moment her eyes lit up again as she nodded her shy yet urgent 'yes', which no matter how subtle, could not be misinterpreted in any way. Relief reflected on Gilbert's face as soon as he saw the sign.

"Then I believe we may safely call it a deal," he said, smiling brightly at her, and held out his hand; Anne took it with a soft chuckle and squeezed it. "I must be honest with you – I hoped that you would allow me to come. I can't promise you when I'll be here exactly, since I expect to be given some work at my own house tomorrow; but I do promise to arrive as soon as it's possible. Now, Anne -" he added before she could cut in with her assurances of no need for such rush. "I think we've both deserved a good night's sleep after all this hard work today. Please, for my sake, try to get some rest yourself. And… Well, goodnight, I guess."

With one last squeeze he finally let go of her hand and turned around to leave the grounds of the Green Gables farm at last. Anne watched him until he reached the top of the nearest hill, from where he saluted her for one last time; then she smiled and, with a heart swelling with both misery and hope, she once again entered the house that she had learnt to call her home.

AN: He called her Anne-girl!