Busy times. Sorry for the delay. This was also a little squirrlier to write than I anticipated! I do not own the characters to My Fair Lady or Pygmalion; I do these stories in tribute to Shaw, Lerner & Loewe.

The little train slowly inched up Mont Blanc and readily came to a stop at the small wooden platform and shed in the meadow. Eliza bounced out of the train in a bundle of nervous energy. "I'm here! In the Alps! This is amazing! It looks like every fairy tale you've ever heard! Oh, that track was so narrow I thought the train would fall off the side of the mountain!"

Henry collected the rucksacks and moved more slowly. "I know you did. Everyone aboard knows you did."

Eliza took a rucksack from Henry and slung it onto her back. "I'm so sorry, but I do feel so much better with my feet on solid ground. Now let's not waste another second. Here's the trail. I've stared at the map so much I feel like I know the place. Off we go!" And over the stile she went with Henry struggling to catch up.

So it went for the next hour, Eliza constantly scrambling forward to discover the next view or rill or rock formation, and Henry behind shouting "Blast it, Eliza, how is a soul to take in a place if you won't stand still for a bit?"

Finally she came to a meadow at the foot of a cliff, which gently sloped down before it dropped off into some trees. Further down, there were green farms, a small river, and the lower terminus of the railroad in town. Above, snow-capped crags and gleaming slopes dared travelers on. Eliza, however, proclaimed, "Here. This is the place." She removed the blanket from her rucksack, and spread it out with Henry's help. Then she sighed and flopped down onto it on her back.

Henry looked nervously up the trail to see if anyone had seen Eliza's unladylike display, and then sat on the blanket, cautious but glad for the rest. Eliza glanced at him. "Oh, do lie down and look up, Henry, the clouds are incredible!"

"Really, what if someone were to come upon us like this?"

"You're nowhere near me. Now come on, there's a good fellow." He was near enough for Eliza to swat his left arm out from under him and send him backwards.

White and grey clouds glided serenely across a magnificent blue sky. They were so sharply defined, Henry felt like he could catch one in his hand. He looked over at Eliza who was taking deep breaths. "Are you all right?"

"Never better. I am positively drunk on pure clean air. I cannot get enough of it."

"That would certainly explain the giddiness."

"This," said Eliza, flinging her arms above her, "is why I wanted to come here, not Paris or Venice or Rome, but someplace without so many people, or so much smoke. And mountains with snow on them! I know it seems silly, but that's always been a dream of mine. And to be able to share it..."

Their hands clasped tightly in between them on the blanket. Each of them seemed afraid to say anything further. Whenever they discussed their relationship in too much detail, it would degenerate into an argument.

Even their engagement was born of an argument. Henry sighed as he thought about that odd day. After the first tentative words about considering marriage, they were suddenly blaming each other for a lack of freedom!

Henry had bellowed, "I answer to no one regarding the conduct of my business, do you understand?"

And Eliza had just picked up where she left off earlier that day. "It's you who don't understand! You answer to everyone you see every day. If you keep mistreating them it's just a matter of time before they answer back."

"You have no compunction against answering back."

"Of course not! All these tools you've given me, all these abilities you've helped me find, I cannot let them languish now! I will use my skills!"

"Good heavens, now I'm Frankenstein, with my creation turning against me!"

"Your creation again! I'm sorry, Professor, but I was already quite thoroughly created when I first came here. And honestly, it sounds like I should be turning away at this time."

"Yes, after all that high talk about marriage."

"Well, I'm glad we got that straightened out now. Probably for the best."

"What's for the best?"

"My leaving your employ."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"If you won't let me help you there is no sense in my staying on as your assistant. I've saved up a bit, I have some time to look for a situation where I'm free to do the work I'm best at!"

"And that would be...?"

"Smoothing out the rough spots, getting people together, getting things to happen, solving problems ... I want to be allowed a bit of a challenge!"

"A challenge, eh? That's it? Marry me then, damn it!" shouted Henry.

"All right, I will! You've been warned!" growled Eliza.

And then they glared at each other until they both burst out laughing. It was absurd, but frightfully typical. They enjoyed each other's company, and there was no denying the physical attraction. They were also both exceptionally stubborn, which had always served them well... individually.

Eliza, broke the silence and brought Henry's thoughts back to the mountainside. "I see a little boy teaching a dog to sit up, and an old woman walking with a crooked cane. What do you see in the clouds?"

Henry thought for a moment. "Over there, that's definitely the statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback in Rome."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "You would."

Henry sniffed. "Well, to his right is a young Roman lady in a fairly short toga, but as I am now a married man and should not be looking at other women, I thought it indelicate to mention."

"Oh, you are impossible!"

"You knew that," Henry sang.

"I did, I did." Eliza affected a pained sigh and smirked a bit.

Henry felt happier than he ever thought he could be. He wanted to tell Eliza somehow, but he was no good at lovers' talk. He looked off to his right at the grasses and little wildflowers growing near him. His eye was drawn to something that looked like a daisy, except its petals were rimmed with pink. Still clutching Eliza's hand, he contemplated the flower a while, then reached out and picked it. He sat up and offered it to her.

"It reminds me of you," Henry said. "Unassuming... tenacious... and beautiful."

Eliza sat up, looked at the flower, looked deeply in Henry's eyes, and smiled. She cradled the flower in her hand for a minute. Henry thought, hoped, that she might put it in her hair or her hat, and was surprised to hear her say, "Do you have the water flask?" He handed her the flask and watched as she scraped under the moss next to her, into the thin layer of soil, and covered and watered the base of the stem.

Henry was stung. "I thought you liked flowers."

"I do, really, it's just that... Oh, you couldn't have known. I can hardly bear to look at cut flowers anymore. It's nicer to see that they have a chance to keep growing. Please don't worry about it. What you just told me is... it really means so much to me." She kissed him on the cheek, but he still pouted.

Neither wanted an argument here, it was too beautiful. That there was no argument was, in hindsight, remarkable. But the picnic lunch was quieter than it should have been.

The dark cloud over them, like all clouds, would not last. But each continued to find the other completely baffling.