A/N:

What if the Captain, after breaking up with Elsa, waited another day or two to talk to Maria in the gazebo?

I read in a book about the real von Trapp family that the children used to call their maternal grandmother "Gromi". I took the liberty of using that here.

Disclaimer: The usual.

"Everything, then, which is such that its act of existing is other than its nature must needs have its act of existing from something else." St Thomas Aquinas.

"Hallo children, Baroness, Herr Detweiler, Captain…"

"Good morning, Fraülein Maria," the children answered in unison, as they used to, joined by Uncle Max.

"Good morning," answered the Captain, almost curtly.

"Good morning," echoed the Baroness, looking at him, a little amused, and winking.

Don't, he warned her glaring ominously. Regally, the Baroness continued to enjoy her breakfast, acting like it was just another ordinary day at the von Trapp household, and she was not about to go back to Vienna carrying her little bags.

Except that it wasn't an ordinary day.

Georg was not mad at Maria for being slightly late again – he was mad at himself, at the circumstances surrounding him, of his complete inability to deal with the situation. He was, after all, an experienced man. However, his clumsy attempts to talk to her the previous night had ended in near disaster. His heart ached when he remembered her shattering into pieces right in front of his eyes. If it had not been for Liesl´s interruption, he would completely loose control of the situation.

It had been so easy with Agathe, almost like if he had made up his mind to love her before he actually loved her. Vini, vidi, vinci – I came, I saw and I conquered, he thought in retrospectThere had not been a shred of angst surrounding their courtship and their marriage. Everything went just as planned, slow and gentle just as it was supposed to be. It wasn't only the fact that their backgrounds were similar, that their families knew one another. Maybe for that reason, he always took their love for granted, and, as a result, suffered horribly when he had lost her. When he first confronted Agathe with his feelings, he already was certain that she loved him, and that she would want to spend the rest of her life with him. And everybody else – friends and family – would be extremely happy about it. No trauma, no stress – just the beginning of ten of the happiest years of his life so far.

With Maria, on the other hand, although he was tempted to admit it had been love at first sight, the knowledge that he actually loved her came to him suddenly, making him feel like he had been hit by a torpedo in the middle of the storm of the century. He may have fallen in love the moment she sat on the pine cone, but the realization of came as an utter and complete shock. That he loved her, yes, he knew. But what about Maria? Was her agony caused by the fact that she was simply scared of him? Because leaving the safety of Nonnberg terrified her?

He would have to find out, at all costs. One step at a time.

Of course he had been unable to sleep during the night. At some point he found himself just outside the door to her bedroom, just to make sure his behavior earlier in the evening had not sent her straight back to the Abbey. He could swear he had heard crying coming from inside, and he did not know if he was relieved because she was there, or sad because there was nothing he could do.

Nothing?

No, he could do everything. Maybe only he had the power to end her heartache. The temptation to knock was almost too hard to resist, but he fought bravely. Whatever he said tonight, it would only make her worse. She was just too distressed, too confused to think rationally. Maria had built a brick wall around her, and he had no idea how to breach it. There was no middle ground; she either reacted with anger or extreme shyness to everything he said to her. He needed time, time alone with her. And in a house with seven children, Max Detweiler, his now former fiancé and half a dozen servants, not to mention his butler listening behind doors, it was not such an easy task.

When she arrived just now, she almost did not sound like Maria at all – her voice was cheerful, as usual, but it was not natural. It scared him like hell. She did not arrive running noisily, skipping or running in that way that was so typically hers, her restlessness causing her to move like if her upper body was faster than her legs. She had merely walked into the room. Maria never merely walked – she skipped, tripped, stumbled, ran, but never just walked. It was almost as if she had to force herself… to be herself! He wondered if the children would not notice, but he could tell only by looking at them that they had. At least Liesl, Louisa and Brigitta did, judging by the worried glances they exchanged the moment they heard her voice.

When she said Captain, not her voice dropped an octave. He had noticed that before, ever since the night she insisted that he sung for the children. He used to think she was intimidated by him, no matter what indication she gave she was not. But this morning, besides being an octave lower, it seemed like she struggled to say the word, and when she did, it was merely above a whisper.

Captain.

Never before she had trouble addressing him like that – on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it, adding the word to every other sentence she spoke to him, almost like a veiled challenge, especially when she said something blunt or outrageous. Captain, Sir, and even the occasional Reverend Captain… He smiled at the memory.

He hated doing this to her, to put her through this hell. The trouble was that he didn't know how she would react when she learned about his plans for her, that hiring another governess was absolutely out of the question. Right now, she had no clue, and she looked like she was in the brink of a panic attack.

But that was only one reason why he kept himself from going to her the previous night. The other reason was more practical - Elsa. He certainly did not want her around when he spoke to Maria, not after his former fiancée told him about the conversation they had the night of the ball.

But that was not all. When Elsa said she would pack her little bags and go, he had forgotten about what the concept of traveling light was to a woman like Elsa von Schraeder. Certainly not a carpet bag and a guitar case. Not to mention that she refused to go one day without her beauty sleep.

Maria was now about to sit down now, mumbling an excuse for being late that was barely audible. He watched with interest what was about to happen next.

"Fraülein, don't!" Gretl screamed. He smiled – his little one had always been one of Maria's most faithful champions.

Maria looked at her puzzled. "What is it, Gretl?!"

"Look first," Friedrich said, not without glaring at his little sister.

"I just didn't want her to scream again," Gretl explained.

Maria saw it then – a pine cone, with a card attached to it. Tears welled up in her eyes. It read Welcome home, Fraülein Maria, and it was signed by the seven von Trapp children.

"Oh, children, I don't… this is… this is…" she swallowed, fighting tears. "… really very sweet of you." She sat down then, placing the pine cone next to her plate. "I don't think I would mind even if I had sat on it and made a fool out of myself again."

"It was Louisa's idea!" Kurt informed her.

"But everyone agreed," Brigitta added.

"Actually it was not me, it was fa…" Louisa stopped herself in time, being kicked by Liesl under the table. "Ouch, Liesl!"

"No matter whose idea it was, it was a lovely thought. Thank you all," she said, smiling at each and every one of the children, but avoiding the Captain's eyes.

The Captain noticed, somewhat relieved, that she sounded almost like the old Maria now. Almost. But it was enough to bring a half smile to his lips. The children – they were the key. He would have to trust his sons and daughters to carry her through the day, until he had took care of everything, such as driving Elsa to the train station, and going to a certain jewelry shop to buy Maria an engagement ring.

He was glad that Max was keeping his mouth shut. The previous night, he had threatened him with the worst forms of torture he could think of if he told the children about the broken engagement before he had a chance to do so. The children had been through too many changes in the past few weeks. Elsa would not say a word, he was sure of that. By now, they had their Fraülein back, and that should be enough for a while.

His gaze turned away from Maria, busy helping Martha with her breakfast, and turned to Max and Elsa. His friend looked like he was enjoying the best show on earth as the guest of honor. Georg was not sure he liked the idea of him staying in Salzburg, while Elsa returned to Vienna, but he claimed to be terribly busy with the Festival. Besides, he thought, with Elsa gone, he would still need a chaperone, if Maria agreed to marry him.

It was when Franz interrupted.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Who is it this time, Franz" he said irritably. He had repeatedly warned his butler about how much he hated being interrupted during a meal. He did not mind before, while he was distant from his children – on the contrary, the interruption was usually welcome. Not anymore.

"Your mother in law, Captain, calling from London."

The children exclaimed in disbelief. Their Gromi, as they called their maternal grandmother, never called father, unless it was for a very serious reason.

"What can she possibly want?"

"I have no idea, Louisa." The Captain was just as puzzled.

"Do you think somebody died?" Brigitta asked, dramatically. The last few times their grandmother telephoned them, it had been to announce a death in the family.

"Don't you say that, Brigitta," Kurt exclaimed. "It is bad luck."

Excusing himself, the Captain abruptly left the table, leaving behind a very silent Maria, and his children wondering about Gromi´s telephone call.