Hey everyone! I know it's been forever since I updated, and for that I apologize. I've made the decision to start posting shorter chapters. The next one will be from Ana and Christian's POV and I have most of that written, but I'm not completely happy with it. For some reason I have an incredibly difficult time writing Ana's side of things.

So, for the time being enjoy this little family dynamic. I modeled the Greys a bit after my family. My brother and dad are constantly challenging one another in some way, shape, or form, so I have Elliot and Carrick doing that. We're all incredibly nosy about one another's lives, especially when it comes to relationships (potential or actual), and my mother is usually the only sensible one when it comes to that nosiness.

Anyway, I hope you like it!

-Naiad

Chapter 4: Sibling Schemers

June 4, 2011

Mia

Elliot and I are peeking through the gossamer curtains covering the living room windows in complete disbelief as to what is happening outside. I look at my big brother and he has a look equal to that of someone who's watching an alien abduction in real time. Is that what I look like? We shouldn't be this surprised that Christian is being nice or that he so obviously has a crush on a girl. Should we?

"Did Christian just open the car door for her?" Elliot asks without taking his eyes away from the scene, the incredulity of his tone evident.

"He did," I answer, nodding my head and swallowing hard. "Christian just opened the door for her."

"He's smiling."

"He is," I confirm, again nodding my head absentmindedly. "And did you see him help Ana put her jacket on in the foyer?" Elliot blindly paws at me, an indication that he heard me but is too enthralled by the sight in front of us to answer accordingly.

"Holy shit, Mia! I swear he just hopped and clicked his heels on his way around to Jason." Elliot finally looks at me with eyes wide in wonderment as his mouth curves into what can only be described as a shit-eating grin, his signature look.

"Shut up. He did not." Christian does, however, have a newly found spring to his step. "This is bizarre."

As Taylor enters the front seat and pulls away down the drive, Elliot and I resume our earlier positions on the couch. Clearly still in shock, Elliot scrubs his face with his palms and runs his right hand through his already mussed up blond curls, pulling lightly, a tic I've noticed both of my brothers have when frustrated, nervous, or in this case, confused. Rightfully so.

"This…is beyond bizarre, little sister. Be-yond biz-arre. Seeing Christian like this … I feel like I've entered the fucking Twilight Zone," he groans, looking at me wide-eyed before continuing in a perfect impersonation of the narrator from said show. "There is a fifth dimension beyond which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition-" How does he know this verbatim?

A laugh escapes my lips, and I reach across the couch to smack Elliot in the shoulder. "Oh my God! You are such a nerd, El." Elliot, the womanizing construction worker with rugged, masculine good looks, isn't the type one would normally associate with being a nerd. He is, however, an incredibly accomplished dork.

"No I'm not. It's on Netflix!"

I roll my eyes. "So if it's on Netflix, it can't be nerdy? I don't understand your logic."

"You don't have to understand, you just have to take my word for it. I am your big brother after all." He pauses, grabs his snifter filled with one of my dad's ridiculous all-hard-alcohol concoctions from the side table, and sips before continuing with his little Twilight Zone bit. "Street scene … Summer … The Present … Man in the driveway of his parents' house - age, 27; occupation, billionaire; name, Christian Grey … An enigma, normally aloof, antisocial, weirdo helps an attractive younger woman into his car. Politely opens the door for her. Smiles. Doesn't say anything ru-"

"Seriously, Elliot!" At this point I'm in stitches and working hard to catch my breath. "Stop! He's not that weird."

"Okay. Okay. I'm done," he concedes. "He's not that weird," his voice oozes sarcasm. "Yeah, okay Mia. I love him and I would do anything for him, but c'mon…Christian's sort of weird."

"Well, not that weird. You're making it sound like he has no social skills."

"He does have some; he just chooses not to use them most of the time." Before I can stick up for Christian any more, Elliot falls back into nerd-mode. "Couldn't happen you say? Probably not in most places. But it did happen in … The Twilight Zone." After a second of just staring at one another, Elliot and I burst into laughter once again. This situation does seem a little removed from what one would consider the Grey family norm. I'd expect Elliot to crush on my friends, but Christian? Never.

Christian has never, ever shown any interest in anyone. For years, my parents assumed he was gay, but Elliot and I knew otherwise. Apparently my brothers shared a stash of printed lewd material in their teen years, and Elliot, an over-sharer by anyone's standards, swears that Christian had a crush on Elena Lincoln when he was younger. Though I find myself repulsed by the idea of anyone having more than feelings of friendship for the woman, I just assume Elliot knows what he's talking about. If anyone knows anything about attraction, it would most certainly be my horndog brother.

"What are you two doing?" My mother asks, entering the room with the noiseless motion she has perfected over thirty-ish years of motherhood.

"We were spying on Christian and Ana," I respond unashamed because I'm sure she was doing the same thing from the front door. "Now we're," I move my pointer finger in a circle so she knows that she's included, "going to discuss how much he likes her!" She shakes her head at us, but has a beaming smile on her face that reveals just how excited she is at the prospect of Christian developing feelings for someone.

Just then my father enters the room, his cheeks flushed from trying to keep up with Elliot's rapid consumption of hard alcohol.

"He does seem to like her a bit," my father says, his speech slightly slurred. Elliot can't help but chuckle at our father's inebriated state. Every time we all get together, the two of them end up in an unspoken drinking contest, and in recent years Elliot has been winning with increasing frequency. Spanking him, as El would put it.

"God, dad. You think he likes her a bit? A bit?" Elliot says, his eyes wide, disbelief apparent in his voice. He and I have been discussing our brother's obvious crush on my friend all night, in brief whispers and secret text messages, of course. If Christian had heard us, he would have been pissed. He was angry enough when he caught on to our little game of pushing the two of them together throughout the evening. "He was ogling her throughout dinner, and I thought he was going to attack her when they were sitting on the sofa together." He mutters something else about 'drooling,' but it's too quiet to understand, and that probably means that I don't want to hear whatever obscene thoughts are going through my oldest brother's perverted mind.

"And he said he remembers Ana from graduation," I point out. My mother opens her mouth in an attempt to say something, but anticipating what it is, I continue speaking. "There were too many people there for him to remember one girl, even if she was talking to an acquaintance of his. He doesn't notice anyone outside our family and his business, especially women."

"But Mia, didn't you ask him to be nice to your friend? Maybe that's what he was doing tonight."

"Well, yeah I did. But I ask him to be nice to all of my friends, because he never is. That has always resulted him just being," I pause to search for the perfect word, "indifferent toward them. He would never initiate a conversation with Lily, help Madison up if she tripped in hallway, or offer either one of them a ride home. To Christian my friends have always been completely inconsequential. But with Ana tonight…" I trail off, allowing my family to finish my line of thinking in their own thoughts.

"Wait," my father says. "What's this about him helping someone in the hallway?" I forgot Elliot was the only member of my family apart from Christian who knows about this, so I guess I have to explain.

"Before dinner, when Ana went to the bathroom," I look around at each of my family members to make sure they know what I'm talking about, "Christian had just arrived and when I left the kitchen, I found them in the hallway. He was like … holding her. They stepped away from one another really quickly and when I introduced them Christian got all…smiley." It was definitely odd. Smiley Christian does not often come out to play.

Elliot barks out a loud laugh, choking on his drink a little bit. After he swallows and collects himself he looks deadly serious at me and our parents. "A smiley Christian is strange enough, but lets not forget when he turned his phone off during dinner. That!" Elliot stands up suddenly, sloshing his drink around. "That is the weirdest thing he did tonight. His Blackberry is like an extension of himself. I wasn't aware that he could function without it switched on and buzzing in his hand. I've always thought of it as a sort of Christian T. Grey battery."

"Battery…" my father snorts a laugh and sinks lower into his chair, rocks glass still held firmly in his right hand. Elliot looks at his deteriorating posture and smirks.

My mom and I nod in agreement with Elliot's cell phone observation, and we all fall into a short-lived contemplative silence. Should I be concerned that my brother and my friend like one another? I always hated that Lily was so blatant in her affection for Christian, but that was always because he so obviously found her to be a nuisance. If he likes Ana, and she likes him, then I would want them to be together. How cool would that be? Ana's already a better friend than Lily ever was, and she's the exact sort of girl I would want to be with either one of my brothers.

"I wonder if he even knows how to woo a girl," Elliot says with a smug little smile playing on his lips. "Maybe I'll have to show him." His eyebrows shoot up and he looks at our mother, just to rile her up no doubt.

"I don't think he'll have any problems with that Elliot. You've seen the way women just throw themselves at his feet. Not that I think Ana would do that," I add, not wanting to give my family the idea that Ana would be so desperate. Like Lily...

"No, Mia. I mean woo. You know like charm a lady." Elliot rolls his eyes at me and continues on with his arms folded over his broad chest. "I could just see him coming on to someone with his doesn't-take-no-for-an-answer CEO face on. Just barking orders and shit. You all know what he can be like when he wants something."

Mom lets out a faint laugh and hides her head in her hands. "Elliot, you're too much." She shakes her head from side to side, and looks back up at my brother. "From what I witnessed tonight, Christian won't need coaching from you or any one of us for that matter. If he likes Ana, Christian will figure it out on his own. He always does."

"It sounds like you know something we don't know, Grace," my father says with a knowing tone, one eye shut and the other straining to focus on mom.

"And it sounds like you've had too much to drink, Carrick." She shoots him a look that everyone in our family has come to know as her shut-your-mouth look. Clearly she told him something that she doesn't want us to know.

"And you're deflecting, my dear." Apparently that look doesn't work as well on my dad when he's had a few beverages.

"Yes, I am." Elliot and I each let out inarticulate grumbles of our shared frustration. "Really, you two?"

"Umm, yeah mom. It's your turn." Elliot is completely lost in the idea of a smiley, crushing Christian. "Spill it."

The four of us remain in our seated positions, staring at one another and willing my mother to break her self-imposed silence. After only a minute of charged quiet, she finally speaks up.

"I'm not going to give you all of the details." She puts her hands up, palms out, giving Elliot and I a look that persuades both of us to concede to her unwillingness to share all of Christian's secrets. We both nod, knowing that Grace Trevelyan-Grey is not a woman to be trifled with once she's made up her mind. "Okay. Well, when I went looking for Christian earlier to discuss some last minute donation details for the Coping Together Ball, I found him and Ana in the hallway. He was showing her the picture wall." She stops talking, and Elliot and I are left open-mouthed, with far too little information.

"Mooo-oom," I whine. "You can't stop there!"

"I wasn't, but I need to figure out what to say. It's hard to put what I saw in words since it was such a shock." She pauses once again, and I'm sure it's just to keep El and I on the edge of our seats. "Well, they were standing quite close. Christian seemed rather taken up with Ana."

"Were they kissing?" Elliot asks with desperation and disbelief in his voice. My father is leaning back in his chair, chuckling softly.

"Yeah, were they kissing?" I squeal, sounding equally as desperate as my brother.

"No, they weren't kissing."

"But, they almost were," my dad adds. "Almost. Cheers!" He quickly slams the rest of his drink, happy to give away the rest of my mother's story. "I'm going to bed." With that he's up and walking heavily to the stairs toward his bedroom without giving any of our shocked faces another glance. This is his way of making a quick escape before mom gives him a verbal lashing.

"Wow, mom. You just got played," Elliot teases. "Apparently we can't tell drunk dad anything if we want it to remain confidential."

She shakes her head, stoic as ever, and stands up. "We'll see who has the last laugh. Don't stay up too late." She comes over and wraps Elliot and I in a signature Grace Trevelyan-Grey group hug, kissing us each on the forehead in the process. "I love you two."

"Love you mom," Elliot and I say in unison as my mother turns around and heads to bed.

As soon as she's out of the room and headed up the stairs, Elliot stands abruptly and holds out his hand to me. "C'mon. Let's get some more drinks."

Drinking with Elliot is never a good idea, as our dad found out (again) earlier this evening. Knowing this, I don't normally drink with him. A few days before I left for France, Elliot took me out to a local restaurant/bar for dinner. Dinner turned into a couple plates of scant appetizers, the drinks turned into rounds of shots, and I turned into an incapacitated mess. I don't remember everything that happened that night, and the next morning I woke up in one of Christian's guest bedrooms with a very angry, grey-eyed, older brother sitting in the chair next to the bed. He was unhappy with my 'performance' from the night before, but sympathetic because he placed most of the blame on Elliot. Christian gave me a stern talking to and gave Elliot a black eye.

I look up at Elliot with a purposefully skeptical expression, and he responds by shaking his hand in front my face, an indication of his impatience with my hesitancy in following him to get something more to drink.

"Mia, just a couple beers. I promise I won't get you wasted. Besides, if I did, I would have to deal with the wrath of Christian tomorrow," Elliot says, with a sarcastically scared tone to his voice. He pauses and stares off into space as if he's had some sort of epiphany before wiggling his eyebrows at me and continuing, "But then again, maybe we should test if he's become a softy in all aspects of his life, or if his only soft spot is for petite brunettes named Ana."

"God, El. Mom's right. You are too much." I reach out for Elliot's hand and he hoists me up, tucking me under his arm and leading me toward the kitchen. When I try to sneak away from his hold, Elliot tightens his arm around my shoulders into a semi-chokehold. "This brings me back. You practicing your wrestling moves on your defenseless little sister."

"Well, I needed to practice on someone and you were usually in reach. I won a lot of matches, if you can remember back that far, and I owe every victory to practicing with you." He smirks and I glare up at him when we make eye contact. "Remember that time I accidently gave you a bloody nose?" I was only eight years old, watching television in the family room when my sixteen year old brother came in, tackled me, and put me in some horrible wrestling position.

"How could I forget?" I poke him in the ribs and he releases the hold around my neck.

"I thought Dad was going to kill me. He and Mom were so pissed off."

"Wasn't the first time though."

"Or the last time." We both laugh, shaking our heads.

When we get to the kitchen, Elliot cracks open two of the bottles of a locally brewed IPA while I settle in on the bench of the breakfast nook near the windows. He comes to sit down across from me and slides one of the bottles with practiced precision in my direction. Was Elliot ever a bartender?

"So who's this punk you're bringing on Saturday?" My brothers have always given any guy I bring around a hard time. It used to bother me, but now I just expect it, and besides, their over-protectiveness has proven to be useful on more than one occasion. Some of the guys I've dated or been interested in have been complete assholes.

"His name is Sean, and you've met him before. We've known one another since high school and we're just friends, so don't get your panties in a bunch." Elliot gives me big smile that only assures me that he will still be a jerk to Sean despite knowing that we're only friends. "I kind of wish he wasn't coming now that Ana's going to be there instead of Lily."

"The Lily monster," he snorts. "She's awful. But, Ana…Ana is great. You said you met her at a deli?"

I tell Elliot the story of meeting Ana, embellishing the part where Lily was being a bitch because I know that he will appreciate it. As I'm finishing up, my phone starts vibrating in my sweatshirt pocket. I pull it out and the caller ID says that it's Ana. She must have just gotten home.

"Her ears must have been ringing," I say, holding my iPhone out so Elliot can see the ID.

"Well answer it," he says enthusiastically. "I want to know how the ride home went."

"Ooooh! Me too!" I slide the green bar to the right to pick the call and take a deep breath, hoping that I don't sound too anxious when I answer. "Hey Ana! You made it home okay?"

"Hey. Um … Yeah I made it home in one piece."

"So, what's up?" Elliot stands from his seat and joins me on the bench, placing his ear as close to the phone as he can get.

"Nothing. I wasn't sure if Christian texted you about my car?"

Elliot's elbow nudges my ribs and I shoot him a dirty look. "Um, no. I haven't heard from him."

Ana lets out a loud breath. "Well he convinced me to give him the key to my car so he or Taylor or someone can arrange for me to get it back tomorrow. He said he would call you or see you in the morning so that you could let me know when it will be here or when I'll have to go pick it up." She's rambling, and I know she only does that when she's nervous or anxious about something. Maybe Christian can woo a girl.

"That's not a problem," I reply, my eyebrows furrowed. "That was nice of him." My eyes meet Elliot's and he's wearing the same amazed expression I am.

"Yes, it was very kind. I don't want to inconvenience him, though, so if he seems put out or anything in the morning let me know and I'll figure something else out."

"He wouldn't have offered if he didn't want to do it. Believe me." He would never do something he didn't want to. Elliot gives me another elbow to the ribs and when I look at him, his eyes grow wide in an expression urging me to pump Ana for more information. "Speaking of Christian, how was the ride?"

"It was fine." Details, Ana. Come on!

"Fine? Did he talk to you?" Elliot gives me a thumbs up.

"Did he talk to me?" She sounds surprised I would ask that, but she doesn't know Christian like we do. The fact that he talked to her throughout the evening was odd enough. "Of course he did. In fact, Christian was quite talkative, entertaining even." Entertaining? Christian? I would never expect someone to use that adjective to describe Christian.

"Entertaining?" Elliot and I look at each other, once again in shock. "Anything else happen?"

"No," she responds quickly, a little too quickly. "Like what?" I can almost hear her biting her lip and wringing her fingers. Why wouldn't she want to tell me? I am trying to glean information about my brother's apparent infatuation with her.

"I don't know." I look at Elliot and he's using his middle and pointer fingers to walk his hands across the table. I give him a look designed to showcase my confusion, but before he can explain I understand what he was trying to say. "Did he walk you to your apartment? Or did he stay in the car?"

"Ummm…" she lets out a little cough, an indication of her reticence.

"Oh c'mon Ana!" I plead. "El and I think he likes you." I look at Elliot and he's laughing.

"Not possible, Mia." She sounds definitive, like that is an obvious answer to my admission.

"Not possible," I mutter. "It's definitely possible."

Ana lets out a sigh and responds, "He's way out of my league."

"You're crazy if you think that." I pause for a second and continue with my previous question. "So? Did he walk you to your apartment or no?"

"No, I didn't let him." She stops, but I can hear her mouth open and shut, deciding what to say next. "But he did walk me to the front door, where he somehow convinced me to give him my car key. Wanda isn't an easy car to drive." I know she isn't telling me everything, but she will eventually, so I let it slide.

Elliot gets up from his spot and disappears from the kitchen, apparently sick of the chat he was so interested in just moments prior.

"Uh, yeah I noticed that the last time I took a ride in her. He'll make Taylor drive it." I roll my eyes. If I didn't know that he was probably paid more than the average doctor for his CPO duties, I would accuse Christian of subjecting Jason Taylor to slave labor. The man works 24/7 and goes above and beyond the call of duty for my ornery brother. Poor Jason.

"I figured as much." Ana lets out a loud yawn. "Wow. Sorry, Mia. I really need to get to bed. I'm beat."

"Okay. I'll call you about your car, but don't expect me to call too early; I intend to sleep for a very long time tonight."

"Classic," Ana giggles. "I plan on sleeping in too, so don't worry about it. I had a great time tonight, Mia. Thank you for having me over."

"Anytime, Ana. Seriously, my family loves you."

She yawns once again. "Okay. I really have to go. Goodnight!"

"Night, Ana." I hit the end button on my phone and put the display to sleep.

I take a long, steady pull from the bottle of beer. It isn't my preferred drink, but it will have to do. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and replay the conversation I just had with Ana through my mind. How could she think that Christian is out of her league, as she so aptly put it? I mean, he's a billionaire and handsome, but Ana is smart and funny and pretty and just amazing overall. I've noticed time and time again that she lacks self-esteem, but who doesn't sometimes?

Before I can dwell on Ana any longer, I can hear the heavy footfalls of my brother growing closer to the kitchen. When he comes into view, Elliot is carrying a bottle of liquor and two shot glasses. Yeah, he's not going to get me drunk tonight.

"I have an idea," he says, sitting across from me once again.

"What kind of idea?"

"A good one." He stops and pours some of the liquid in each shot glass. He picks both of them up and hands one to me before continuing. "Christian is going to see Ana tomorrow. He wouldn't have insisted on getting her car for her otherwise. So, we'll let that one go in whatever control-freaky way he has planned."

"Okay."

"Okay." He slams his shot and stares at me until I do the same. I down it in one gulp, instantly regretting the action. I stand up, walk to the refrigerator, and pour myself a large glass of orange juice. Elliot pours two more shots and continues talking as if the shot didn't have any effect on him. "This is a weird situation. I bet Ana feels weird that Christian is your brother, and I bet he feels weird because she's your friend…and he's never had a girlfriend before."

I retake my place on the bench, dramatically rolling my eyes in response to Elliot's question as I sit down. "True. They both know how much I hate Lily's Christian obsession."

"You don't have a problem with this, right? With Christian liking Ana and vice-versa?"

"No. Why would I? Ana's awesome, and she definitely isn't in to Christian being The Christian Grey, like Lily." I can't help the smile that appears across my face. "In fact, I love the idea of the two of them."

"Good. I just want Christian to finally get some." I kick him under the table. "Shit, Mia! Stop doing that, it hurts!"

"Stop being an ass. Get some," I grumble. Ana doesn't seem like the type to just hook up with anyone, even if that someone is my good-looking, ridiculously wealthy, older brother. She's never mentioned any boyfriends. In fact, the only guy she has spoken of is Jose, but Ana insists she's never been interested in him beyond their friendship. Even when we're out and men look at her or hit on her, Ana seems completely oblivious, if not indifferent, to their advances. Just a couple days ago some guy gave Ana his number and she tossed it with the rest of her garbage after lunch, citing that he was probably just being nice because she told him in passing that she was new to Seattle.

"Your job for this week is to make sure Ana looks fucking awesome for the Coping Together ball next weekend." I nod and smile stupidly once again. "I mean…find a kick ass dress and invite Ana to get ready with you and mom. You two still do the spa thing all morning right? Makeup, hair, the whole nine?"

"Yes we do, and I was going to invite her over for that anyway. Mom said Elena will be there too." I can't help the sneer that comes over my face when I say that name. Elena fucking Lincoln. She's one of our mothers best friends, but I can't stand her and I know El can't either. Something about her is just…slimy.

"Gross. I don't understand why mom still hangs around that woman." He stops and looks at me. "Now back to the issue at hand. We need Christian and every other guy in the room to be drooling over her. That won't take much either, I'm just saying that it needs to happen."

"Is making Christian jealous a good idea? I mean, we've never seen him like that, and he can be…intense."

Elliot chuckles at my choice of adjective. "If Christian can be described as anything, it's definitely intense. But," he shrugs his shoulders and holds his hands up in front of him, "he needs incentive, and seeing other men ogle your girl, or the girl you like, is completely awful."

"Okay. I get that. If that's my job, then what's yours big brother?"

Elliot passes me the second shot and we partake in our table-cheers-table-drink tradition before gulping down the viscous liquid once more. Elliot takes his like a boss, hardly even flinching, and I immediately chase mine with a sour look and the rest of my juice.

"I'm going to make sure he's jealous," he smiles. "I know a lot of the younger guys who'll be there, so I'll be sure to talk Ana up to them. And I'll make sure Christian hears me."

I reach across the table and grab the bottle of liquor Elliot's been pouring our shots from. Studying the label, I realize that I'm already quite intoxicated from the bevy of drinks we've consumed throughout the evening. Fuck it, I think as I pour two more shots. Elliot gives me a confused look and follows it up with a giddy smile and laugh.

"This might not be the greatest idea, El. But, I'll agree to it." We knock back our shot. "I'm agreeing because the more I think about it, the more I think Christian and Ana could be great together."