A/N - I played a little with the timing of Grace and Oliver's arrival at the bridge and their reactions. I always thought they were a little too calm, considering the circumstances. :)
When Punjab called them and told them he had found Annie near the railroad bridge, Oliver's mind started flashing on all the horrible possibilities that could happen to a young girl on a railroad bridge. But, never would he have imagined the sight that met them when they finally reached it. Annie was climbing the raised bridge like a ladder, the man who they had thought was her father, following quickly behind. As Oliver exited the car, he reached for Grace instinctively and took her hand. She clasped his and squeezed as they stood and watched the scene before them, terrified. At one point, the man had almost reached Annie, his hand grazed her foot and then he lost his grip and slipped down a few inches before regaining his balance. It was enough for Annie to get away from him again, but Oliver realized in horror that she was almost to the end of the bridge. Grace realized the same thing as she gasped and buried her face in Oliver's shoulder. Oliver reached up a hand and ran it over her hair and then gripped her upper arm. Grace leaned into him and turned to watch again, her head still resting on his shoulder.
As Annie climbed over the end of the bridge, looking for a way to escape, they saw Punjab lowering himself down from the auto copter by his turban. Oliver sucked in a breath, praying that he would reach Annie in time. Grace tightened her grip on his hand, bringing her other arm around his front to grip his side, hanging on for dear life. He released her hand and put his arm around her waist, returning the favor. The man had gotten hold of Annie's arms now and was prying her from her grip on the girder of the bridge. Annie was screaming and Grace gasped, a sob escaping her throat.
"Please God," Oliver whispered, "Please don't let her fall." Grace squeezed his waist again and let out a little scream herself as Annie fell. Oliver's legs turned watery and it was only the fact that he had a death grip on Grace that kept him from falling. His heart was practically leaping out of his chest, and he could feel Grace's pounding as well, as she leaned against him. He watched as Annie got another grip further down and saw that Punjab had almost reached her. When Punjab did get a hold of the child and Oliver saw her wrap her arms around Punjab's neck, he released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, knowing she would be all right now. Grace quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as they ran to Punjab when he reached the ground, Oliver taking Annie from his arms and hugging her tightly. Grace hugged Annie and then Punjab, coming back to Oliver and Annie, wrapping her arms around them both.
Oliver quietly closed the door behind him. Annie had fallen asleep on the way home, Grace had helped him put her into her pajamas and then left him to sit by Annie's bed. Oliver had sat, stroking Annie's hair and holding her hand until he was satisfied that she was sleeping soundly. As the door closed, he leaned against it, scrubbing a hand over his face. He really should find Grace and make sure she was all right, but he wasn't sure what to say or how to act around her now. Things had changed between them, he couldn't deny it to himself any longer. The question was, what did he plan to do about it? For that he had no answer.
Oliver went to his study and poured himself a drink, then wandered aimlessly through the house until he found himself on the back terrace. He stared out onto the huge expanse of back lawn and gardens and remembered his breakfast with Grace just a few days ago. She had asked him if he really just loved money and power and capitalism and reminded him that they were never going to love him back. A truer statement was never spoken, but they couldn't hurt him like love could either. Like Annie's departure and subsequent kidnapping had tonight. Still, he knew there was no way he could lose that little girl again. Through questioning of Miss Hannigan, he had learned that Annie's parents were in fact, dead, and that he would be free to adopt Annie if he wished. He was positive that Annie wanted to be adopted by him, but he would make sure in the morning. If she agreed, she would be his daughter, his little girl, forever, and no one could take that away from him.
But Grace, Grace was a completely different story. She was free to do what she wanted, she wasn't tied to him as a child would be. He was almost sure he was in love with her. Oh hell, he was completely sure he was in love with her. But, he didn't know how she felt about him. And even if she thought she loved him now, there was no guarantee that would last. He was older than her, set in his ways, ornery. Yes, she dealt with his moods well, but that was as his employee, it was part of her job. Dealing with him in a personal relationship would be completely different. It was probably better if they remained employer and employee.
But then there was Annie. He knew she looked at Grace as a mother figure and he knew Annie had been, not so subtly, trying to push the two of them together. The child just wanted a regular family after all. Perhaps he should give it a chance for Annie's sake. Oliver sighed and shook his head. But what would happen to Annie if Grace decided Oliver wasn't what she wanted and left them? It would devastate Annie even more than if things just remained as they were now. No, Oliver thought, he needed to put Annie first and forget about his feelings for Grace. Grace could mother Annie just as easily even if she were only his secretary. He wouldn't mind having the help and he knew Grace loved Annie as if she were her own. Oliver was about to turn to go back and check on Annie again, when a movement in the gardens caught his eye. He leaned against the rail of the terrace, squinting into the darkness, trying to make out who it was. He vaguely wondered where the Asp was, Punjab had been given the night off for his heroics, but the absence of any barking from Sandy indicated it wasn't an intruder.
The figure came closer and as the person stepped around the hedge and into the light, Oliver realized it was Grace. The moonlight shone through her hair as it lightly bounced around her shoulders, her blue skirt blowing slightly in the breeze. Oliver saw that she had taken off her shoes and carried them, dangling by their heel straps, in one hand, lightly running her other hand over the hedge she had just stepped around. She paused, crossing her arms in front of her. As she tilted her head to look up at the stars, Oliver gasped at the way the moon glinted off her face, bathing her in its soft light, making her appear even more beautiful. He almost lost his resolve, wanting to run and take her in his arms right then. As though sensing his presence, she turned, looking directly into his eyes, a sad smile crossing her face.
Grace came around the corner of the hedge, deeply lost in her thoughts, unaware she was being watched. Her mind was full of everything that had happened over the last few hours, Annie's departure, her kidnapping and rescue and Oliver. Most of all, Oliver. As they had watched, stunned and horrified at the railroad bridge, their actions toward each other were more than employer and employee. They were worried parents, terrified for their child, gaining strength from one another as they waited and hoped. She had felt Oliver's knees buckle when Punjab finally grabbed Annie. Grace's strength held him up, as his had her when she saw Annie dropped from the bridge and Grace had screamed, burying her face in his shoulder. And she felt his joy as strongly as her own, when Annie and Punjab finally touched ground. She had gazed at him, the entire car ride home, as he held a sleeping Annie on his lap, stroking her hair, whispering in her ear that she was all right, would always be all right from now on. Grace had felt tears slide down her face at his tenderness, a side she had seen more and more of since Annie had come into their lives. He had glanced up at her then and given her a small smile, squeezing her hand briefly where it lay between them on the seat. Grace's heart had leapt, hoping that his behavior earlier, after Annie had driven away, had just been born of grief.
And yet, once they were home and Annie safely tucked into bed, his demeanor changed once again and he was quiet and formal. She thought once he had sat with Annie for a bit, he would seek her out and they could finally talk, but he had gone into his study instead. Going stir-crazy in the house, Grace had fled to the gardens, a place that had always calmed her, except for tonight. She was jumpy and jittery, she knew that the adrenaline from the night had not completely worn off and the confusion about Oliver didn't help matters. She crossed her arms and turned her face upward, staring at the stars sprinkled across the sky. As she gazed at them, she felt as though she were being watched and slowly turned to see Oliver standing on the terrace, staring at her. She gave him a small smile, which he did not return, and began to make her way back to the house. She half-expected him to turn tail and run, but he remained standing where he was as she came up the steps and stood beside him.
They stood in silence for a few moments, looking out into the garden and then Grace turned to him.
"Is Annie still sleeping then?" she asked.
"Yes," Oliver replied, continuing to gaze into the gardens. "She seems to be fine, no worse for wear. Physically anyway," he added, almost as an afterthought.
"She's a tough little girl," Grace said. "She'll be all right."
"Mm," Oliver replied, avoiding Grace's gaze. Grace looked back at the gardens and then at her bare feet, making her decision.
"Oliver," she began, but he interrupted.
"Miss Farrell, it's very late and it's been an exhausting night," he said, not looking at her. "I'm going to check on Annie and then head to bed. I'll see you in the morning." He turned, leaving his glass on the small table beside him and walked toward the house. Grace watched him go and then sank onto a chair as he disappeared into the house, a sob escaping her lips as she did so. She grabbed the glass he had left behind and almost threw it to the flagstones of the terrace, but thought better of it at the last moment, slamming it down onto the table instead. The fragile glass was no match for the stone table and shattered in Grace's hand, slicing her palm. She cried out in pain as the blood welled from the cut, slowly dripping onto the table top.
Oliver paused just inside the door, taking a deep breath and trying to summon the strength to leave Grace where she sat. Then he heard her sob and his heart broke again. At the sound of the glass shattering and the small cry that followed, he turned back, his heart in this throat. Oliver saw the blood dripping from her hand and hurried toward her, already pulling his handkerchief from his pocket.
"Let me see," he said as he reached her table, gently pulling her hand toward him. She resisted for a moment, then opened her palm, showing him the cut. He grimaced at the piece of glass still embedded in it.
"That needs to come out," he said, quietly. "Would you like me to get Mrs. Greer?"
"No, no, don't wake her just for this," Grace insisted. "I can do it." She reached toward the cut, her face blanching and swaying slightly as she did so. Oliver shook his head at her squeamishness and lightly pushed her hand away before he grasped the glass shard between his fingers, pulling it out quickly. Grace gasped, then closed her hand instinctively at the pain. Oliver gingerly opened her hand again, wrapping his handkerchief around the cut tightly. Grace closed her hand over the end to hold it in place and looked up at him.
"Thank you sir," she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned. She nodded, not looking at him.
"What happened?" he asked, although he knew perfectly well what had upset her. She reddened, still refusing to look at him.
"Just me being clumsy," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry I left the glass there," he replied, mentally chastising himself for being so careless. "I should have taken it with me." She waved her good hand, brushing off his apology.
"Perhaps I should walk you to your room. You should really wash the cut out," Oliver said. Grace looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"I'm fine sir," she told him.
"Miss Ferrell, you should really," Oliver began, but Grace interrupted him before he could finish.
"Please," was all she said, before her voice cracked and she turned away from him completely.
"As you wish," he replied, slowly walking into the house. He stopped at the door, looking back to her again, but she had wandered to the terrace rail and stood with her back to him, shoulders shaking ever so slightly. He turned to go to her then, broken heart be damned, when he heard a scream from inside the house. Annie, was his only thought as he broke into a run toward her room.