To those of you who have asked: I do plan on finishing this story. I knew how this fic would end before I even began the first chapter. I'm just a perfectionist, and it may take me a while. To make up for the delay, here's an extra-long chapter :)

Chapter 3: Together At Last

"And if tomorrow I'm an apple seller, too- I don't need anything but you."

By the time Annie and Oliver returned, an assortment of large trucks sat parked in the rear drive, and the little girl quickly became suspect of the increased, almost frenetic energy that seemed to grip the massive household. Preoccupied, the staff rushed about in every direction, while Grace -hoping to prolong the surprise for as long as possible- headed the returning pair off at the entryway and promptly sent Annie off to the tennis court for her lesson. Oliver -determined not to spoil his own surprise- made a hasty retreat for the safety of his office as Grace's back was turned, settling in to handle a few matters of business before the party.

The afternoon passed quickly…Every so often the loud, echoing horn of a delivery truck would drift up to Oliver's office, the dim shouts of workers signaling the arrival of whatever wonders Grace was preparing for that evening. Oliver found himself once again marveling at her proficiency as he scratched out the last of his memos for the day; those which Grace had somehow also managed to prepare while simultaneously planning the executions of a magnificent party.

With evening fast approaching, the DuPont and the Duesenberg were sent off to the Hudson Street Orphanage, and they returned just before dinner, their cabs overflowing with Annie's friends. An ever-stoic Punjab lead the procession into the great hall, and as soon as the little girls caught sight of Grace they converged upon her, babbling excitedly and asking after Annie. As if on cue, the little redhead came dashing down the staircase, exclaiming in delight at the sight of all of her friends from the orphanage crowded around Grace.

"Molly! And Tessie, and Duffy!" Annie gushed, adding to the excited chatter as she rushed towards the group and quickly became surrounded, "Hi Pepper, hi Kate! Hi July!"

Though they had seen each other only just the night before, Annie and the rest of the orphans shrieked with delight, eager to be heard over one another as they traded stories and exclaimed in nearly breathless wonder at the oversized features of the Warbucks' mansion.

"Daddy Warbucks wanted to have a party!" Annie proclaimed gleefully, "And Grace said I could invite all of my friends! And President Roosevelt is coming!"

Their enthusiasm was infectious, and Grace looked on with a gentle smile. She was surprised to find that Molly's little hand had worked its way into her own, and she gave it an affectionate squeeze and nodded towards the staircase, patiently herding the rest of them in the same direction as Annie added:

"You've all got presents, come on!"

The day had been very busy indeed. Grace had supervised deliveries for most of the afternoon -directing the setup for workers and performers- and about the time the elephant had arrived in her huge, red and yellow trailer was when it became very apparent that the evening's plans were simply too involved to keep the vivacious little redhead out of the loop for much longer.

Annie had been thrilled when, after her tennis lesson, Grace had told her about the party and the invite she had extended to her friends from the orphanage. Astutely aware that most of little girls owned little more than what they wore everyday, Grace -ever capable- had even arranged for an assortment of the newest fashions to be delivered for the orphans in the afternoon. Which was what awaited them -three whole racks worth- as their little group made its eager way up the stairs and arrived at Grace's suite of rooms.

"Ooh!" Squeals of delight echoed off of the high ceiling as Annie's friends discovered what awaited them, and they rushed towards the racks, delighting at the rich, colorful fabric of party dresses, jumpers, ruffled bloomers, and even small silken gloves. Their happy babble created a cheerful sort of melody that filled the large room, and Grace thought happily to herself that the oft lonely estate had never seen such joyful times. Soon the room was filled with the mingled scents of bubble bath and perfume as each little girl took her turn in Grace's big claw-footed tub, splashing and scrubbing before wriggling into their petticoats and drifting over to have her hair gently combed out by Grace. The girls giggled, fussing over their reflections in the vanity as they had seen Miss Hannigan do so many times at the orphanage, and even Pepper, who put on a hard front, allowed Grace to set her curls, closing her eyes as though trying hard to memorize the feeling of the secretary's nimble fingers as they worked through her hair.

When it was Grace's turn to get ready, the girls watched her with a sort of reverent attentiveness as she sat at her vanity in a silken chemise and brushed through the soft waves of her hair. They crowded around so that they could see their faces reflected in the mirror beside Grace's own, admiring her pearls and allowing themselves to imagine -with the sort of wishful innocence that often comes with being a child- that this was their mother, who fussed over their curls and let them sample her lipstick and stared adoringly after Annie…who was surely the luckiest little girl in the world.

Oliver pulled his pocket watch from his suit vest and sighed. Mabel -his stenographer- paused, her fingers poised in perfect position over the typewriter keys. Her endless patience reminded Oliver of Grace, and he sighed again, tucking his watch back into his jacket pocket.

Grace…His dictations were not nearly as fluid without her expertise. His afternoon did not pass nearly as quickly without her velvety laugh to quicken his pulse, nor did he seem to accomplish nearly as much. He was going to have to close a factory in Pittsburgh. Though Grace would ultimately crunch the final numbers, Oliver was sure of it. The loss did not bother him nearly as much, however, as the absence of Grace's presence in his study. He gazed blankly at Mabel, meaning to make note of his next point, but Oliver found that the words wouldn't come.

He found it justifiable that he would miss Grace so much; after all, she made all of his decisions, the most recent and important being the decision to accept his love. Not just accept it, Oliver noted, but return it…His pulse picked up a little at the thought and Oliver decided right then that since he missed Grace so much- well, he would just go and see her.

"That will be all, Mabel, thank you," Oliver dismissed the older woman with a distracted smile, keen on his new plan. Pausing to remind the stenographer of the party that evening, he barely waited for her to pack her things before slipping out of his study and striding off in the direction of the staircase.

Oliver found Mrs. Pugh in the kitchen. The house was strangely quiet without Annie's gleeful exclamations and the sharp, echoing click of Grace's heels, as she was nearly always by his side. The kindly cook seemed almost unsurprised by his arrival, and a delectable smell wafted from the ovens and filled the room, temporarily distracting him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Warbucks!" Mrs. Pugh stood on her toes to retrieve a pan from the hanging rack, and Oliver stalled, suddenly unsure of his excuse for being there as Grace was clearly nowhere in sight.

"She's upstairs, with the little ones," Mrs. Pugh provided knowingly, her gentle surmise filling the silence. Oliver cleared his throat, though he thought he knew to whom Mrs. Pugh was referring.

"Who?"

"Miss Farrell, of course," Mrs. Pugh's tactful nonchalance was offset by a knowing wink as she reached for a mixing spoon, and Oliver reached up to tug at his collar, feeling suddenly warm. "Dinner's been pushed back for the party, I'm making all of Annie's favorites," Mrs. Pugh added a pinch of salt to the nearest pot and continued, "I was just about to send up some sandwiches-"

"I'll do it," Oliver volunteered quickly, taking a step forward.

"Really, Mr. Warbucks, that's not necessary-"

"Please," Oliver affirmed, reaching for the silver tray all too eagerly, "I insist."

All throughout the enormous estate, party preparation was evident. The ringing sound of hammers and the gruff shouts of workers echoed across the gardens, while inside, Oliver's staff rushed about, dusting and polishing the floors and banisters until they gleamed. It was Grace who maintained a running tally for the bookkeeper, but Oliver knew his estate employed some 35 full-time and upwards of 60 part-time workers: body guards and groundskeepers, maids and kitchen staff, accountants and stenographers and drivers…All of which -Oliver noted as he made his way across the great hall and towards the staircase- could not quite conceal their looks of surprise and curiosity as he passed, a cheerful bounce in his step.

Oliver's mansion had 52 rooms and 19 full baths. The first floor contained the kitchens and dining rooms -one for everyday use and two more for formal and holiday dinners- a ballroom for entertaining, two music rooms, the parlor, a smoking lounge, multiple sitting rooms, and the pool. The second floor was not quite as open, with less windows and dark carpeting and marble. The second floor was for business: the library, the study, eight lavishly-furnished state rooms, a billiards room, several drawing rooms, and Oliver's office. While most of Oliver's guests roomed on the second floor, the third and uppermost floor was quieter, and -if possible- less presuming. It was divided into the East and West Wings, stretching off down the corridors at either side of the top of the staircase, and housed several of the permanent tenants. Oliver's living quarters made up the entire East Wing, including a smaller, private library, a map room, and a personal breakfast room. To the right of the top of the staircase, on the other side of the mansion from Oliver, was the West Wing, and -at its very end- was Grace.

Her suite of rooms had always been of particular favor to Oliver, and he had known as soon as he'd hired her that only Grace was befitting of its grandeur. Oliver recalled the day he'd offered her the job, four years previous, and how he had found himself rising from his desk -whereas normally he would have directed Punjab or Mrs. Greer to escort her- to show Grace himself to her new quarters. He strode through the house, hands clasped behind his back, and the young woman had followed primly along. Oliver remembered the strange sense of anticipation he had felt when he had pushed open the double doors of the suite, remembered the peculiar feeling of happiness he had experienced as Grace has stepped into her new sitting room, her eyes wide, her expression awed.

She had stood there -hands clasped in front of her in the patient and unassuming way Oliver would eventually come to associate with the lovely woman- marveling at the polished, wooden floor tiles, the elaborate, sculpted crown molding, the tall windows and rich fabric of the curtains, and the stunning crystal chandeliers.

"This will do, I hope?" Oliver had queried, almost teasingly. He had watched as Grace's gaze had traveled across the rose-colored dressing room, the extravagant full bath, the recessed bedroom and the large, open sitting area, and again Oliver had experienced a curious, deeply satisfied feeling that was quite unfamiliar to the loud, business-minded billionaire:

Making Grace happy had made Oliver happy.

Grace and Annie sat perched on the divan in the open, high-ceilinged sitting room in Grace's suite. The large space echoed with peals of delighted laughter as they watched Molly and Duffy dance about, turning cartwheels in their ruffled crinoline undergarments. Grace smiled in adulation -laughing and clapping her hands as the little girls put on a show- and in the back of her mind she thought of Oliver, and her soft smile grew even wider.

So loud was the noise within the room that neither Grace nor the orphans heard the knock when it first sounded upon the door. A moment passed and the sound came again; before Grace could even reach for her dressing robe Annie had skipped to the large double doors and pulled them open, and there -standing in the corridor on its other side- was Oliver.

"Daddy Warbucks!" Annie seemed unaffected, standing before Oliver in her petticoat, but Grace stood frozen, caught up in a mixture of shock and embarrassment at being discovered by her employer -by Oliver- in little more than her silk chemise. The room grew quiet, and Grace cast a look behind her, fraught to discover that the orphans had drifted nearer and were hiding behind her shyly, granting her no cover.

Grace turned back towards the doorway.

"Oliver?" She blushed furiously, and her soft inquiry seemed to stir the billionaire from his stunned reverie.

"Grace…" Oliver said stupidly. He found himself unable to move- such was the sight of the woman in front of him in, Good Lord, nothing but her slip dress…"I-I'm sorry-" Oliver startled as the sandwich tray was pulled from his hands; he looked down to find that Annie had taken it from him and was gripping the silver handles carefully, staring back and forth between Grace and himself with an anticipant grin upon her face.

"Oliver?" Grace's soft voice broke the silence, and Oliver gave a small start as he realized he had again been staring, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course-" Oliver cleared his throat and tried very hard not to look at the smooth, flushed skin of Grace's neck, simultaneously tempted and fearful of what he might discover if he allowed his gaze to drift southward. He ended up staring very hard at the pattern in the gilded wallpaper.

"I, uh-" Oliver stumbled over his words, searching desperately for an alibi. Was it really so hard to tell the woman he missed her? "Mrs. Pugh wanted to send up some sandwiches…Hold you over…until dinner."

"Thanks!" Annie took a big bite out of the topmost cucumber sandwich, passing out the rest as the little girls seemed to forget their shyness at the mention of a meal which consisted of something other than cold mush, and converged upon the tray eagerly.

"Thank you, Oliver," Grace's eye contained a knowing twinkle, but her smile was as gentle as ever as Oliver nodded and reached for the door handle, desperate for escape. He slipped through the double doors, hastily pulling them closed before collapsing against their sturdy frame and giving his collar another flustered tug.

An hour later, Oliver had changed into his best tuxedo and stood waiting at the foot of the stairs in the grand hall. The house was oddly quiet in the wake of the day's bustling activity, and Oliver adjusted his cummerbund and refastened his jacket button anxiously, sliding a hand beneath his lapel to check the contents of his vest pocket for a third time. Satisfied that the little blue box was indeed safe, Oliver gave a nervous exhale and turned, anticipant, towards the landing at the familiar sound of Grace's heels on the marble tile.

His breath caught in his chest. Grace stood on the topmost step, and Oliver had never seen her look more beautiful. Her hair was pinned back, but softly -so unlike the tight, businesslike way she usually wore it. The delicate twist was dotted with tiny white flowers, and an elegant string of pearls was clasped at her neck. Her rose-colored dress draped across her shoulders, creating an elegant "V" shape against the contours of her chest, before tapering to the perfect fit against her waist. Oliver stared, and Grace gave him a timid smile and dipped her head self-consciously, the color in her cheeks rising delicately.

Annie and the rest of the orphans followed excitedly behind, and as they swept down the stairs, enveloping Grace, Oliver reached out and took her hand, leading her down the last step and guiding her nearer. His gaze never left Grace's own, and her blush deepened as Oliver took her in, seemingly oblivious to the giddy, echoing noises of Annie and her friends as they skipped up and down the stairs, vying for Grace's attention.

"My God, Grace," Oliver breathed solemnly, "You're beautiful."

Grace dipped her head.

"Thank you, Oliver," she smiled shyly and carefully reached up to adjust Oliver's collar, "You look very handsome."

Oliver's expression gave way to a pleased smile, the tips of his ears burning quite warmly.

"I don't want that woman here, in my house!" Oliver insisted adamantly.

"She still in charge of the orphans, Oliver," Grace intoned carefully, laying her hand against his forearm in a soothing gesture. The guests had begun to arrive, and Grace stood with Oliver at the rear of the entryway while he received each new arrival, shaking hands and accepting congratulations on Annie's rescue and subsequent adoption.

"Besides," Grace smiled amusedly, a knowing twinkle in her eye as Miss Hannigan sauntered across the great hall on the arm of Board of Orphans director Robert Donatelli, "Punjab will keep an eye on her. She seems to have developed quite the special interest in him."

Oliver harrumphed as -sure enough- Miss Hannigan caught sight of Punjab standing vigilant at the foot of the stairs and quickly disengaged herself from Mr. Donatelli's arm, cutting a determined path across the foyer towards the bodyguard that seemed to have so thoroughly enchanted her the night before, and leaving Mr. Donatelli looking quite put out.

The arrival of President Roosevelt and his wife Eleanor amidst the other guests created a welcome distraction from Oliver's grumbling, and soon, the party was in full swing.

"Oliver!" Franklin Roosevelt made a beeline towards the pair, wheeling his chair across the gleaming marble tile before pulling up short, Eleanor alongside him: "Adopting Annie! That's marvelous! I'm not the smartest fellow in the world, but I can sure pick smart colleagues!"

"We aren't colleagues yet, Franklin," Oliver refuted good-naturedly, bending forward to shake the President's hand as Grace and Eleanor exchanged warm greetings, "Though I must admit, there's something to say for your tenacity…"

"Spoken like a true Republican!" President Roosevelt exclaimed with a laugh, "Not to worry, not to worry…" he leaned forward to grasp Grace's hand in both of his own, offering up a buoyant smile, "I'm confident my New Deal will change your mind, Oliver!"

"Spoken like a true Democrat," Oliver parried dryly. They all laughed, and Roosevelt -ever persistent- raised a finger and insisted jovially, "The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today!"

…To which Oliver, try as he might, could not disagree.

The night was again warm, its shadows broken up by the strings of tiny white lights that adorned every line of the stately home. They twinkled against the dark sky and draped from the trees, creating a soft sheen against the multitude of red and blue balloons that lined the veranda.

Grace had outdone herself. She clasped her hands in front of her, ever unassuming and patient, as Oliver conversed with guest after guest, calling Annie over more than once to introduce her to his various and extensive business acquaintances. They had retired to the terrace upon the completion of dinner, and there a wonderland had awaited them:

The promenade and adjoining gardens had been transformed into a certifiable circus, complete with acrobats, jugglers, and dancers. There were clowns and fire-breathers, and performers on unicycles. There was even an elephant. Music from a live, ten-piece band floated across the veranda, and everywhere one looked there were sweets: caramel apples and popcorn, and even -much to the orphans' delight- a mime spinning clouds of fluffy pink cotton candy onto colorful spools.

The orphans ran about in a tight, excited group, emitting shrieks of delight and laughing joyously at every new discovery. The adults sipped champagne and mingled, exclaiming openly at Oliver Warbucks' change in demeanor and speculating quietly on the soft beauty of the woman who stood vigilant at the billionaire's side, and appeared -for all intents and purposes- to be nothing short of a mother figure to the young Annie.

Miss Hannigan -accessorized in her finest purple feather boa for the occasion- shadowed Punjab's every move, though the wise bodyguard appeared curiously smitten by her advances: he had offered her his hand, and led her in a sweeping arc through the party as he made his rounds. Couples danced on the flagstones surrounding the fountain, its reflection casting a pretty, rippling glow upon their faces.

And the night wore on.

When Oliver was finally able to make his way back to Grace -for varying responsibilities had separated them a short while earlier- he found her at the top of the terrace, deep in conversation with Mr. Donatelli. Oliver drew even with the pair, and a tingling sensation shot up Grace's spine as he lay his hand against the small of her back and leaned forward to shake the Director's hand. The nearness of Oliver made her heart pound, and it was with a fuzzy head that Grace thanked Mr. Donatelli and promised to phone his office at the beginning of the week.

"You've outdone yourself, Grace," Oliver insisted reverently, leaning into the shadows beneath the balcony to press a loving kiss against her lips. He reached forward, breaching the darkness as he extended Grace his hand, "…Walk with me?"

The gardens were quiet away from the hum of the party, though the music from the band carried dimly, lending the air a certain ambiance. Grace's hand felt warm and secure within Oliver's grasp, and she allowed him to lead her further away from the bright lights of the large house, deep into the shadows of the garden. The buzz of cicadas seemed to pulse all around them; the magnolia trees rustled and swayed in the night breeze, and cherry blossoms floated through the air, drifting across the path before them. They strolled along, silent, until soon Oliver slowed, leading Grace to a stone bench at the side of the pathway.

The night air was cool and tranquil here, and while Oliver kept hold of Grace's hand with one of his own, he reached forward with the other, his warm palm fitting against her cheek perfectly.

"Have I told you," Oliver's queried softly, "How incredibly beautiful you look tonight?"

Grace dipped her head demurely, a modest blush coloring her cheeks even amongst the shadows as she smiled.

"Thank you, Oliver."

He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, reaching up to tuck an errant curl back into its place.

"You did a wonderful job, with the party."

"Annie seems to be enjoying herself," Grace agreed, smiling softly at the thought. She drifted into silence, caught up in Oliver's gaze. A moment passed, and then -almost without realization- she found herself reaching out to place a hand to the back of Oliver's neck, pulling him closer and leaning forward herself until his lips met her own.

Oliver drew her nearer, returning the kiss with vigor before breaking away to press a half dozen feather-light kisses across her face: her forehead, her cheeks…along the line of her jaw. Grace was breathing heavily when he pulled away; her fingers itched to undo Oliver's bowtie and work his collar free, and she quickly balled her hands into tight fists, stifling the urge.

A lone cricket began to sing, breaking their momentary silence. Grace gazed at Oliver with wide eyes, and Oliver stared back -thoroughly entranced by Grace's beauty- as the rise and fall of his chest slowly settled.

"There's…something I want to ask of you," Oliver intoned softly, patted both of his jacket pockets nervously before remembering that he had hidden the little blue Tiffany's box in the pocket of his vest. He reached into his jacket before pausing, unsure of how to proceed. "I've been quite the fool…these past four years, not to have noticed you."

Grace deflated softly, looking hurt, and Oliver reached forward, quick to amend his words.

"What I mean-" he cupped her chin in his palm, lifting it gently so that she couldn't look away, "Is that I've been a fool to have noticed you every single day…" he continued softly, "And never told you -never admitted to myself- how incredibly important you are -how important you've become- to me."

Oliver reached again for the little blue box inside his vest, confident this time, and pulled it out, presenting it carefully to Grace.

"For you," he explained unnecessarily. Grace stared up at him, eyes wide and disbelieving, and Oliver gave her an encouraging smile, his expression endearingly anticipant. Grace exhaled nervously, twisting her hands upon her lap before reaching out to take the proffered box. Casting Oliver yet another unsure glance, she lowered her gaze and carefully lifted its lid.

She gasped, a small hand shooting up to cover her mouth incredulously. The most beautiful ring Grace had ever seen was nestled inside, its brilliance evident even in the dim shadows of the night. Oliver smiled, satisfied, and mentally reminded himself that he must thank Annie again, for together they had picked a splendid ring: The center diamond was large and square, its color a magnificent indigo blue. Every facet of its surface gleamed in the soft moonlight, and its sparkling color was a near-match for Grace's soft, blue-grey eyes, a detail that had not gone unnoticed by Oliver. Set in white-gold, no less than 36 white diamonds lined the center stone and glittered across the entire width of the band. It truly was a magnificent ring, and as Grace began to cry Oliver lifted it carefully from the box and gently took her hand into his own.

"Grace Elizabeth Farrell," Oliver lovingly slipped the ring onto her finger, "Will you marry me?"

Like I said, sorry this took so long. I do plan on continuing…however, I've had the outline for this story done for months, and as you can see I've only managed to put out 3 chapters, so I'm not sure how well that speaks for my efficiency! I've got quite a few alerts and favorites on this story, so if you're reading this, please let me know what you think?

Fun fact: Wilson Hall at Monmouth College in New Jersey (where the movie scenes for Daddy Warbucks' mansion were shot) actually has 130 rooms! I thought that was a little much (even for Oliver!) so I scaled it back to a paltry 52 rooms ;)

Also, if you're a visual person (like me) you can see the link for Grace's engagement ring on my profile. I needed a ring suitable to Oliver's taste and Grace's beauty, and the standard white gold/white diamond were a dime a dozen and began to feel very uninspired…hence the blue diamond.