A/N: Hello all and thank you again for the reviews. I havent replied individually I know but I do appreciate all the tiem you take to let me know how it's going :) Also I love the theories! I dont want to reply and spoil anything but the theories you guys are coming up with brighten my day :) I will be on vacation next week so updates may be sparse. Happy Easter!

The next morning Christian awoke early next to a still-very-unconscious Anastasia Steele. He'd anticipated a rough night sleeping with the practically comatose girl beside him, and was somewhat unnerved to find that he'd slept well. Very well, as it had turned out.

He needed to clear his head and decided that going for a run would be the best option. He already had a favorite route that encircled the Heathman Hotel, and it would also allow him to stop in for a morning coffee before he came back. It was barely 6 am and he knew that after last night ,Anastasia would be sleeping for quite a while yet. Just in case she did happen to wake while he was gone, he set out some Tylenol and a glass of orange juice for her before he left.

Running was good. It allowed him to clear his head and focus instead on the present, on his body, on the way his feet hit the pavement and his chest rose and fell from the labor of his breathing. It allowed him to stop thinking about the what ifs of last night. What if Anastasia had been hurt? What If she'd kissed the photographer back? What if he hadn't come in time and the photographer had forced himself on her? What if…. He cursed himself, reminding himself to focus on his breathing, on the route. He needed coffee.

Christian entered the coffee shop to find a small line of early Wednesday-morning commuters waiting. He liked this shop. It was local, it was organic, and it was charitable, a far cry from several of the more corporate coffee shops that littered Seattle and Portland. He waited in line amiably, taking in the cozy surroundings. He gave the woman behind the counter his order, a medium latte, no sweetener, and a small tv mounted to the far wall caught his eye. The morning news was on and, to his surprise, a picture of the night club Ana had been at was on the screen. There was no volume on the television but the subtitles were on so he was able to read what the story was about.

A woman named Amber Johnson was found strangled and posed in her bed this early this morning by a roommate. She was last seen alive at the very nightclub Anastasia had been drunk in the night before. A photo of the woman filled the screen. She looked like she was in her mid to late twenties. She had long straight brown hair and light-blue eyes. She was very pretty, her face the same shape as Anastasia's, her hair maybe a shade darker. They could almost be related. It made the what ifs that had been plaguing Christian all morning that much worse. What if Anastasia had never called him? What if she instead had caught the eye of whoever had done this? What if it were Katherine Kavanaugh who made the most unwelcome discovery the next morning? She could have been….His heart was racing and he couldn't bring himself to even think it.

Christian forwent his latte, instead rushing back out of the coffee shop and picking up his pace to a light jog back to the Heathman. He needed to see Anastasia. He worry was quickly turning to anger at the girl, for putting herself in such a dangerous situation. He needed to make her understand.

Ana awoke to find herself in a strange room, her head throbbing slightly. It took a few minutes from memories of the previous night to flood her system. Oh god….She'd called Christian Grey…he's SHOWN UP! Just in time to see her vomit spectacularly all over the parking lot. He'd taken her home….she thought…but this wasn't home. This looked like a hotel room. Looking to the side table she saw the juice and Tylenol that Christian had left out for her. She took the pills, sipping warily at the juice, afraid that her stomach was going to attempt to empty its contents again at any moment. Only then did she realize that she was not wearing her clothes from the night before, and that thought distressed her mightily.

The door the bedroom opened suddenly and there he was, Christian Grey, in all his glory, wearing sweat pants and a sweaty work-out shirt. He'd been working out. Shit…what time was it? His glare at her cut off any further thoughts she might have had. She stared at him feeling for all intents and purposes like the errant child, about to get scolded.

"How are you feeling?" He asked suddenly, venturing further into the room, his voice clipped. She bowed her head, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Better than I deserve…" She answered, subdued.

"Good." He responded, coming around to sit on the sofa facing the bed.

"You did a very stupid thing last night, Anastasia, do you know that?" His tone was reprimanding.

"Yes." She whispered back, rubbing her temple. "You brought me here?" She asked then, looking up at him.

"Yes." He nodded his affirmation, assessing her.

"This is your hotel room?"

"Yes, Anastasia." He replied again, slowly, as iff to a small child. It made her feel foolish. Then, suddenly, a very unwelcome thought crossed her mind.

"Oh god…did I….did you….did we….have sex?" She almost whispered the last part, holding her breath, terrified the answer would be yes, and that she didn't remember.

"No. Anastasia." His tone was clipped, formal, angry, "You were comatose. What kind of man do you take me for? " He asked her back, then before she had a chance to respond, he continued "Or do you make a habit of getting wasted and sleeping with strange men?"

Ana winced at the question, shaking her head slowly in response.

"No…" She whispered again, sipping more of her juice.

"What were you thinking? " Christian continued to snap at her, angrier than perhaps he should have been, jeeze, she'd made a mistake…she was sorry, why was this such a big deal to him?

"I-I don't know…I'd never really had a drink before, and Jose kept buying us rounds of margaritas.. We were celebrating, is all." She defended herself, though her explanation sounded weak even to her own ears. "Why are you so mad? I'm sorry I drunk dialed you okay, you really didn't have to come and get me like that." She was getting annoyed. She was a full-grown woman, after all. She could take care of herself.

"Oh yes I did." Christian retorted, and Ana felt herself shrinking back from the rage in his tone.

He stood from where he'd been sitting and charged toward her. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" He snapped again,

"Christian nothing was going to happen to me. I was out with my friends before you showed up." She snapped back, growing tired of this argument.

"Friends?!" Christian sounded incredulous now, and he grabbed her arm, ushering her up and out of the bed.

"Hey what are you –"

"Your friend, Katherine? The friend that let you leave drunk to the point of passing out, with a stranger whom you both barely know?!" He snapped again and Ana shrank back even as he dragged her from the room out into the main sitting area. Ana hadn't thought about it like that. Was it crazy that she was here with Christian? Was Katherine a bad friend for letting her go with him?

Christian snatched up the remote control to the large flat screen in the sitting room and turned it on. He quickly thumbed to the local news station and directed Ana to sit on the couch in front of the screen. She complied, but she was growing more and more pissed at a certain controlling billionaire.

On the television screen there was a picture of a pretty brunette. Ana felt a lump in her throat, watching the news cast. An anchor was delivering the information in a somber, neutral tone.

"Amber Louise Johnson was found this morning by her roommate, posed as if sleeping in her bed. Police have confirmed that she was strangled but have yet to comment on the similarities between this and the Melissa Brewster case that took place in Seattle earlier this month. Ms. Johnson was last seen at Trickster's bar and dance hall in downtown Portland, where witnesses say she left alone…Police are urging anyone who may have seen anything suspicious there to come forward.."

The newscaster continued but Ana stopped listening. She was struck by the image of the very nightclub she and Kate had attended the night before. She'd been there. The same place where a woman had spent possibly her final hours before her death. Ana's mouth felt dry.

"Oh my god!" She gasped, feeling frozen in her seat. "We were there! I could have seen her. Or bumped into her. I could have…."

"You could have been killed." Christian interrupted whatever she was going to say next, and the look of fear in his eyes at that thought stunned her. She could tell that in the time she had called him last night and this very moment, his brain had worked through just about every worst-case-scenario he could come up with, and the worry was killing him.

"If you were mine," He continued, "You wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after a stunt like that! I have half a mind to –"

"I'm sorry." She interrupted him, reaching out to take his hand. "I'm sorry I worried you. I am sorry I drank too much. Please, don't think I do this all the time. This was the first, and last time, I ever drank like that. And I am sorry."

The cross expression on his face faltered, and Christian all of the sudden looked lost. She was replaying his words in her mind. If she were his…wouldn't sit down for a week… she couldn't help but smile at that. And her smile had him looking even more lost. He stood there, floundering for a minute, before he seemed to recover.

"You need to eat." He announced at last, pulling his hand from hers, recovering his bossy control-freak demeanor. "Your hangover will only get worse if you don't. I've ordered room service. It should be here momentarily. In the mean time, you should take a shower and clean up. I had Taylor pick you up some new clothes, yours are at the dry cleaners. They were splattered in vomit." He wrinkled his nose in distaste at that last statement and Ana couldn't help her grin. She brushed right past exactly who had undressed her and how she'd come to be in just an oversized t-shirt and panties. A shower did sound divine.

"Thank you, Christian." She smiled at him again, he seemed pacified and a little confused as she retreated back to the bathroom to clean up.