On that Sunday morning, Anne got to the junction at 5.55 am. So when Frederick showed up at 6.00 sharp, Anne was already in the middle of her warm-up exercises. It was already early December, the week just before finals, and on that clear, cold morning, the temperature was somewhere in the 30s, but Anne was comfortably snug in her fleece top and running tights. That gave her a psychological advantage already.

Sun Tzu's Art of War said: "Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories."

As a consequence of living in an all-girls dorm, the "know thy enemy" part was relatively easy for Anne. Within weeks from the start of semester, Anne had already been fed with more gossip about the male denizens of the MIT Class of '00 than she ever cared to know about. Until now, that was. For this mission, all the snippets of information about Frederick Wentworth were getting to be quite useful. She know he was an Air Force ROTC cadet, and that he had played football in high school. She also knew he was living in a frat house, even though he was also a freshman. This led her to two conclusions: he was probably too much of a party animal to have any above-board intentions towards her, and that it would take a good deal of strategy to fashion a physical challenge where she could best him. At least on the second count, she was correct.

Anne knew herself, too. In an out-and-out challenge of strength or speed, undoubtedly she would be absolutely no match for Frederick Wentworth, not by a long way. But there was one area where she could possibly poke through a chink in Frederick's armor: endurance. Football players, after all, were trained for short bursts of intense activity. Meanwhile, Anne knew she could hold her own against many guys in long-distance running. In fact, Anne's petite, slender physique was the perfect marathoner's build.

Truth to tell, Anne had chanced upon cross-country running as a complete fluke. Junior year at high school was when she'd gotten her big break - for one, Elizabeth had finally graduated, releasing Anne from the obligation of being a perpetual hanger-on to the group of popular girls where Elizabeth had been the queen bee. Although Anne was good with one-on-one friendships and had her own set of close friends, Elizabeth had dragged her around for as long as they were in school together - after all, shouldn't her kid sister be one of her group of followers? Anne was too serious and too good at math and science to be considered as one of the popular girls, and so the clique had made her life totally miserable in freshman and sophomore year at boarding school. With Elizabeth gone, Anne could finally find her own set of friends, interests and activities, and cross-country suddenly came to her naturally, especially since she lost her baby fat that year as well. Not only was it an outlet for her to release her frustrations, it also gained her new-found respect, even amongst the popular clique that Elizabeth had once ruled. Where they had previously teased her mercilessly for being Elizabeth's gawky, geeky little sister, now nobody dared to say a word when she could outrun all of them.


When Anne had brought home her cross-country trophies from boarding school in the summer after high school graduation, though, the reactions from her family couldn't have been more predictable.

"Anne, for heaven's sake, have you been running? You really shouldn't - it makes your legs too muscular, and that's not at all attractive in a girl. Maybe you can sign up for Pilates classes - that'll help to undo the damage. If you don't stretch your legs properly, all the muscles will turn into fat. Fat legs! God!" Walter shuddered.

"You run cross-country? Like Forrest Gump?" Elizabeth probably didn't realize how ugly she looked when she curled her lip into a sneer like that.

Just cool it, Anne told herself. Be the bigger person and let it go, because there's no way you can win an argument with Elizabeth using reason. Zen... Zen... It would have worked any other time, but Anne was too passionate about cross-country to ignore this particular barb.

"For your information, I don't run across the country like Forrest Gump. In case you don't know, cross-country is a specific genre, with a specific distance, which is three miles." The minute the words left Anne's mount, she regretted letting her emotions get the better of her brain.

"Anne dear, whatever happened to your sense of humor? Do you have to take everything so literally?" Indeed, Anne had made it too easy for Elizabeth.

"Taking words literally is a symptom of Asperger's Syndrome. So is going on and on, in great detail, about a specific subject. Shouldn't you see a shrink and get yourself checked out, Anne?"

"Mary, do you have to come up with a fanciful name for everything? Forrest Gump is a retard, period."

This time around, Anne did succeed in keeping her mouth shut, and leaving Elizabeth and Mary to it. She knew exactly what her sisters would be calling her all summer long - and all too predictably, her guess had proven to be absolutely right.


"Today, we'll be running up to that bridge over there." The bridge Anne was pointing to was well within visible range, even in the pre-dawn light. "Then, we'll cross over to the opposite side of the river, and come back to Massachusetts Avenue. And the route ends right here, at this spot."

The pace was easy and relaxed, definitely quite manageable to Frederick since regular physical training was an integral part of his ROTC program. So this chick wanted to run, huh? He'd humor her by jogging around for two or three miles. Elementary, my dear Watson.

"Say, have you watched Space Jam?" While they were at it, he might as well make some small talk. It would be the polite thing to do on a date, if running along the Charles River on a chilly winter morning could be considered a date at all.

"Shh. I don't talk when I'm running. It breaks up my concentration," Anne hissed. She didn't drop the pace or even turn her head to look at him. It amused Frederick that Anne should take herself so seriously when she was running - she was the image of complete focus.

Half an hour later, Frederick wasn't so amused after all. They were on the Harvard Bridge, approaching the same junction on the MIT side where they'd met. Somewhere along the way Anne had gradually, imperceptibly upped the pace. And she showed no signs of stopping at the junction, either. Seamlessly, they passed through the junction and embarked on another round of the same route.

And so it went, for three more rounds. By this time, Frederick was visibly shivering - he hadn't counted on being out here so long, and even though they were constantly on the move, he also wasn't moving fast enough to keep warm with just a thin tracksuit on. But he couldn't stop right in the middle; it would be too much like admitting defeat. Especially when Anne was making it amply clear who was boss on this run. She dictated the pace, and the distance, all the way.

Finally, Anne ground to a stop at the junction. They had been running for almost two hours. And Frederick had never felt more cheated in his life.

"No fair. You said we were going to end right here, at this spot." Since when was Frederick Wentworth reduced to whining? In the one week since he'd become acquainted with Anne Elliot, this was the second time she'd made him look like a total idiot.

"And so I did. I said the route ends right here. But I never made any promises about how many laps we would run, did I?"

"So what was the distance we covered today?" If Frederick had anything to say about it, it felt like they had run an ultramarathon.

"About 12 miles, I believe. Four laps of three miles apiece." Anne shot him a pitying look. "You look like you're about to freeze to death out there. Care to join me for breakfast and coffee at McDonald's?"


Over coffee and hot cakes at McDonald's, Frederick finally got round to broaching the subject of the song.

"By the way, thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

"For the song. It was great - I don't set much store by most rock songs nowadays, they're too cynical. For that matter, I don't care much for those PC Disney bulls*** either - too idealistic for my liking. This song was real, yet hopeful. It's not easy to find songs like that."

"My sentiments exactly," Anne was impressed by the frankness and sincerity of Frederick's appraisal of the song. "That was the main reason why this song is my favorite, too. I identify with it in a lot of ways. It gives a voice to my greatest wish - to have the freedom to chase after my dreams."

"And what would that be? You're not thinking about flying, are you?"

"No, definitely not - much as I believe in equal opportunity, I still believe that flying is very much a man's job. I could never reach the controls, for one thing." Anne smiled self-deprecatingly. "I guess I'm lazy, 'cause I appreciate flying more as a passenger after all. When I was younger, Father used to bring us - my sisters and I - travelling all around the world. Flying was a very different experience back then - now, people don't think twice about going up an airplane in their bermudas and flip-flops, and I think that's really sad 'cause just about ten years ago when we were kids, flying used to be a really special occasion. People actually dressed up to go on an airplane.

"To me, taking an airplane was part of the whole excitement of going to someplace new. And nothing fascinated me more than seeing all the different types of airplanes. When I was little, Father told me the Boeing 747 was the biggest aircraft in the world. And I actually thought there was only one 747 in the entire world. So when we took the Pan Am to go to Japan, I was so thrilled to be in the world's only 747. And it was so cool, with the spiral staircase inside and all.

"That was when I started paying attention to the different types of aircraft. I wanted to know why some airplanes had two engines while others had three or four; why some of the engines were below the wings and others at the back of the aircraft; why some aircraft have T-tails. That's how I ended up here, I guess. How is the experience of flying?"

"I have no idea - not yet, anyways. I haven't been in an aircraft before."

That was too honest, Frederick realized belatedly, for if Anne heard what he'd just said carefully enough, she'd rightly draw the conclusion that not only had he not flown an aircraft as a pilot before, in fact he had never even ridden in an airplane. True, the experience of actual flying would have to wait, for he wouldn't be allowed to start applying to fly until junior year. He didn't particularly want to admit, though, that he wasn't even sure if he'd ever been in an airplane, as his family had stopped travelling since he was very young, too young to properly remember.

"That's OK - I'm sure you'll get the chance soon enough."

Regardless of whether she was consciously making an effort to deflect the topic or that it simply didn't occur to her, Frederick was grateful that Anne didn't make a big deal out of it. From her genteel manners to the fact that she'd travelled extensively as a child, it was obvious that she came from a much more privileged background than he. But wait, how did she know that he was aspiring to be a pilot in the first place? He had to satisfy his curiosity, so he asked her.

"Word gets around." The reply was as cryptic as it was cool, and it unsettled Frederick that she probably knew more about him than he did about her.

"Where are you headed for winter break?" He figured it was time to change the subject.

"I live in the suburbs near Detroit. My father is in the auto industry."

This was a gross understatement, but Anne still felt guarded about saying that she lived in Grosse Pointe, to be exact, and that the Elliot family had grown magnificently wealthy through the automotive business. Elliot Machine Systems Co (or ELMSCO for short) had been supplying steering components and subsystems for automobiles since the days of the Model T Ford, and Walter Elliot was part of the third generation of this Elliot dynasty. But Walter hated to get his hands dirty, and so he mainly played the role of a passive investor, leaving the running of the company to a distant third cousin, William Elliot. As for the Elliot girls, Walter didn't care if they never worked, either - as long as they did him credit amongst the circles of America's rich and famous he mixed with, all the better to secure a trophy husband. But Anne was interested in neither, and so she maintained a respectful distance from Walter. He would never be "Dad" to her, always "Father". Only Elizabeth, who was virtually crafted in his image, would ever be close enough to Walter to call him "Dad".

The fact that they came from the same hometown gave Anne and Frederick something new to talk about, and Anne had enough of a down-to-earth perspective to relate to the wider Detroit outside of Grosse Pointe. Unlike her father and sisters, she had never been in favor of wrapping herself up in a glass bubble, just because they happened to be born rich.

"And are you going back to Detroit for winter break as well?"

"Nope. I'm staying put right here. My sister just got married over the summer, and she and my brother-in-law are now living in Guam. He's in the Navy. And my brother's studying over in the UK." He modestly omitted that Edward was actually studying at Oxford on a Rhodes scholarship.

"How about your parents?"

Frederick looked away.

"It's just the three of us now, actually. Four, if you count my brother-in-law. So there's nobody left in Detroit to go back to. Cambridge is my home, or at least the only home I've got in the US."

So that could be why he was living in the frat house, instead of in a dorm. Just in the space of one morning, Anne had found quite a few reasons to challenge her previous assumptions about Frederick Wentworth.

"Well, it's kind of similar for me. It's just Father and my sisters at home - and my grandma. I hardly knew my mom, and my baby sis Mary never knew her at all."

Maybe it was sympathy, or maybe it was just the fact that they had more in common than they'd previously realized, but from then on, the conversation flowed nonstop, until they realized that it was practically lunchtime, and nearly half the day was gone. With finals coming up the following week, they would both have to return to their respective residences to get some studying done. Still, Frederick insisted on walking Anne back to her dorm.

"That was fun." Frederick tried to sound as casual as possible, while trying also to stave off the moment when he'd have to leave Anne at the doorstep of McCormick Hall. "Let's do this again sometime. Maybe after winter break."

Anne took full advantage of his ambiguity. Even though her attitude towards Frederick Wentworth had softened somewhat, one conversation, no matter how wonderful, would not be enough to convince her fully of his sincerity as her friend, rather than using her as a conduit to her sister as so many other guys had. He would still have to prove himself over time.

"Sure. One of my goals is to run the Boston Marathon before graduating from college. And I could definitely use a training buddy. Are you on, or not?"

"I'm on."

Whatever Anne may have thought, Frederick was fully aware of the magnitude of the challenge. Yet he didn't have to think twice before saying it.


Chapter Notes:

Canon Notes - the Admiral and Sophia take up residence at Kellynch because they are native to Somersetshire, which means that Frederick and Anne's families originated from the same area. Substituting Detroit for Somersetshire was fairly self-explanatory, as both are heartland-ish areas and the auto industry is a good analogue for the Elliots as a means to become very rich, but yet an industry which is going into sunset at the time where this story is set.

Diversity Easter Egg - The Chinese saying 知己知彼,百战百胜 is translated in this chapter.