A/N:

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

Disclaimer: I still do not own anything.

"Nothing can be made out of nothing." Shakespeare, King Lear, Act 1.4.

The Captain had been watching her for a while. He had seen her throwing the book away, had seen it landing among the branches of a tree. It had been an angry gesture. Then he saw the children circling her, he saw how she visibly relaxed as they began talking to her. He was almost sorry to disturb that rare moment of peace.

"What is all that noise?" he asked, a few steps behind them.

Maria startled a little, but she remained seated, and did not turn around to face him. His chest tightened when she saw her stiffen again, as soon as she heard his voice. Whatever the children had said or done to calm her, he ruined it with just a few words.

Enough is enough, he thought. I must stop this.

Maria had not known he was back already. And after a whole morning being reasonably successful in keeping her thoughts away from his particular person, the unknown, frightening feelings rushed back again with full force. Her throat felt tight, she could not breathe.

"Fraülein Maria needs to open a window, and we were trying to help her," Kurt informed his father.

"She says she is not strong enough, but I was saying that you could do it for her," Martha added.

Georg raised his eyebrows and smiled. "What is it that are you up to now, Fraülein?"

"Oh, nothing, Captain," she replied with a shrug.

"Nothing? My son just said you are planning to break through a window. None of mine, I hope."

"Metaphorically, Sir," she replied, still not looking at him directly. "Only metaphorically."

"Hummmm…"

"Look over there," Friedrich yelled.

"Forget it, Friedrich, that one is mine," Louisa warned.

"Only if you beat me to it!"

"I invented this game. I have rights."

"It may be your game, but the rules are mine."

Before Maria knew what it was they were talking about, they all left, running.

"Children wait," she called after them, but it was useless. He was left alone with her nemesis. Oh God, please don't leave me alone with him – not now!

The Captain sat next to her on the steps of the terrace, much too close for Maria's comfort.

"What on earth was that? I haven't seen them so secretive since… since yesterday afternoon, as a matter of fact," he added with a smile. "They tried to see you, did you know that?"

"Sister Margaretta told me. Had I known about it I would talk to them, but when I found out, they had already left."

"Is it a game they are playing now?"

Maria, with a slightly shaky voice, explained the complicated game Friedrich had invented. Her hands were fidgeting nervously.

"You have some color back in your face today. That is good. You had us all worried last night," he said lightly.

"As I said then, I was just tired."

"Yes, but you still look a bit down. Why are you not with them?"

"I am. They will come to me and ask me very odd questions from time to time. It's all part of the game. Besides…" she took a deep breath, "they must get used to play without me, if I am going to leave soon, mustn't they?"

"I see." She wasted no opportunity to remind him that she would leave. "At least now I know one of the reasons that have you constantly fighting the urge to cry since the moment you arrived. Have you told them that you'll leave again?"

"No, I didn't have the heart to," she whispered. "It's too…" she swallowed, "… difficult".

"I see. When is it going to happen? When are you taking your final vows?" he asked.

"I… I do not know yet," she answered weakly.

"I thought you said in the end of September."

"I did?"

"That is only two weeks away. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Maria whispered.

"Yes. Neither do I," was the enigmatic answer.

No, not yet, Georg thought. Talk to her now and she will shatter in a million pieces. She just was not ready.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked her. "Is that a book on that shrub over there?"

"Yes, it is."

"What is it doing there? Who…"

"I did, Captain," she confessed, before he blamed the children.

"Why?"

"It needed throwing and I just… threw it."

The Captain stood up, and walked towards the shrub. Standing on his toes, he retrieved the book. He grimaced when he read the title, then he handled it to Maria, sitting next to her again. "There."

"Thank you," Maria said, taking the volume as if it burned her.

"Why was did poor Miss Charlotte Bronte wrote that made you so angry?"

But Maria was in no mood to start a literary debate with him.

"I – I can't see them anymore from here," she said, instead. "I should go to them before they get into trouble. They are playing near the lake …" She tried to get up, but realized that the Captain was sitting on her skirt.

"Oh, forgive me," he says, but made no motion to get up and free her.

"Captain," her tone was almost pleading. "The children…"

"The children will be fine. Liesl will look after then as she always does. You and I… we need to talk," he said gravely.

"We do?!"

About the new governess, certainly. How much more of this torture does he think I can stand?, she thought.

"I… the truth is that let you get away last night, but today you will listen, not even if I have to tie you down. There is something I know, and I think you know it too. At the same time, there is something that you don't know. Yet, but you will. Very, very soon… In fact no one knows, except…" Maria frowned – she had never heard him struggling with words before. And although he could be enigmatic, he was usually very clear when he talked to her. He almost sounded like herself when the Reverend Mother forced her to talk about him.

"Captain, you are not making any sense," she blurted out.

"Am I not? What about your absurd metaphor about… what was it? Aah, opening windows? I am not talking in riddles, I think you and I should…"

Franz's voice coming from somewhere behind them interrupted him.

"Herr Dr. Thürmann, Sir, calling from Vienna."

"Tell him I will call him back in five minutes," he barked, sounding just like the old captain again. The contrast seemed startling to Maria.

"But Sir…"

"Five minutes, Franz!"

"Very well, Sir."

"Captain, I really really must…"

"Don't!"

He silenced her, by placing hands over her fidgeting ones. She felt his light touch on her whole body. His hands.

Oh God, what is happening?!, she thought in despair.

"Will you look at me, please?" he asked. "Just for one moment, it won't hurt you, will it. I will not hurt you."

Oh yes, it will. You will, she thought.

Maria could only stare at his hands, noticing, in the corner of her mind, that he still wearing Agathe's ring, in spite of his engagement to the Baroness.

The Baroness, she thought. He is engaged, he can't wear his wife's ring anymore.

She could not bring herself to look at him, and thankfully he did not insist. Interrupting her thoughts, he leaned closer to her, so close that she felt his warm breath in her ear, and, almost in a whisper, he said.

"It will all be all right. Trust me. Just give me… no, give yourself another couple of hours. We'll talk after dinner. Just please, do not run from me ever again, I beg of you."

What would be all right? Stop worrying about what? Trust him with what? Talk about what? Run away from him? How on earth did he known she had run away from him?

Before she could ask him any of these questions, he gave her hands a reassuring squeeze, which was enough to send another jolt of electricity through her body and reawaken the butterflies in her stomach. Then he left.

Her hands burned where he had touched them.