Chapter Twelve

After an overview of the new rules, Claude again says, "When you're ready."

It's an entirely different fight this time. Jacque immediately rushes at Christian, apparently in an effort to tackle him. Christian counters with a perfect front kick to the chest; more pushing than striking. Halted in his tracks, Jacque grabs at the limb in a crossed-arm hold that Ana can't even see properly. Brit hisses, "Going for a kneebar; leg lock."

Too fast to see how he does it, Christian somehow uses Jacque's chest to aid his momentum as he leaps into the air and twists out of the hold, performing a cartwheel in mid-air and landing on his feet in a ready stance. Jacque quickly recovers, bringing his guard up and shaking his head slightly in disbelief as a smiling Christian says, "I told you; not quite yet."

When a smiling Claude silently awards Christian the point, Ana looks to Brit, who quietly explains, "In a real fight, Chris would have kicked to the head on the way through. I'm guessing he avoided it, because he couldn't have controlled it enough not to do damage."

It's the last point Christian wins. He does his best to keep it a standing fight, but Jacque eventually gets under his guard, throwing himself onto the ground at Christian's feet and somehow flipping the bigger man to the ground – prompting a collective "whoa" of appreciation from the crowd – where it becomes a wrestling match. Not that the task of subduing Christian proves easy for Jacque; time after time, he attempts a submission hold and is foiled by his opponent's strength, reflexes and street-fighter instincts. Claude is repeatedly glancing at his watch, counting down the seconds until the round finishes, when Brit hisses, "Shit; arm bar."

Ana is now practically clutching Felice as Christian rises to his feet in a desperate bid to free his right arm from Jacque's clutches, but it's no good; arms and legs wrapped around the limb, hanging upside-down, Jacque is clearly now in control of the fight and they both topple over, where more pressure is applied until Christian actually grunts in pain. Ana is whispering "Please, baby, please," when Christian seems to impossibly hear her and suddenly taps Jacque, who immediately releases his grip.

Springing to his feet, Christian offers a hand to Jacque, as he cheerfully says, "Congratulations. We should do this again some time."

Visibly relaxing at Christian's chivalry, Jacque accepts the offered hand and lithely rises to his feet, shaking his head as he exclaims, "Fuck, you're fast."

As if it's a signal, the crowd closes in, offering congratulations to both competitors. Felice shakes her head and says, "I'm glad I didn't know him when he was doing this for a living."

Ana offers a weak smile and agrees, "Yeah."

Having detected something amiss, Felice asks, "You okay?"

Only now noticing that her bottom lip hurts from being abused by her teeth throughout the second round, Ana quietly reveals, "Christian helped Jacque to his feet with his left hand."

With a comforting arm on her shoulders, Brit says, "He'll be fine; just a bit tender for a while. He tapped out in time, and Jacque didn't apply full pressure."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Smiling at both of them, Ana says, "Still, I'd rather not go through that again."

Christian emerges from the crowd, still being congratulated for his efforts with back slaps and shoulder pats. Ana wonders if anyone else can see that the attention is making him uncomfortable; his polite smile appears more like a grimace to her. He's now wearing his dress shirt – unbuttoned – and carrying his jacket and shoes. He approaches with eyes only for Ana and rests a hand on her cheek, gently running his thumb over her slightly swollen bottom lip as he asks, "Okay, baby?"

A shocked gasp of laughter erupts from her and Ana says, "You're asking me? What about you?"

She knows that the impromptu event has cost him when he merely shrugs and says to Felice, "Looks like you're here for a little while, at least. They're asking for a blow-by-blow. Want a ride home?"

"That's okay; I'll wait. Thank you, Christian."

Understanding that she's grateful he pulled his punches, Christian shrugs and says, "Yeah, well, I didn't want to make you a widow so early."

Ever the gentleman, Brit offers Felice his arm and says, "Shall we see what fun we can eke out of this party?"

After lengthy goodbyes, despite the party being pretty much over, Ana and Christian are finally heading home and she snuggles against him, saying, "Thank you, for tapping."

Christian shrugs yet again and says, "He had me. He didn't actually have enough pressure on it to pop the joint, so I probably could have got out of it. But he definitely had me, so it wouldn't have been fair to continue."

Wondering how to ask in a way that won't get his back up enough to make the task impossible, Ana decides on politeness and asks, "May I please see your arm?"

Christian tenses and says nothing for a few seconds. But then releases her hand and rolls up his right sleeve to reveal a swollen redness just inside his elbow. When Ana looks at him in silent plea, he sighs and says, "Taylor; would you mind having a look at my arm when we get home?"

"Certainly, sir."

Touching fingertips to her lips and then to the injury, Ana again leans on Christian's shoulder as she says, "Thank you." Only then does she remember the lustful promise he made earlier in the evening. "Oh. That's why you're upset."

Christian groans and murmurs, "Apart from the fact that I'm a sore loser; yeah. It's not serious, but I've only limited movement in my forearm; not enough control for the whip."

Putting her lips by his ear, Ana whispers, "Have you no imagination at all, Sir?"

Christian's breath hisses in past his teeth at her challenge, and he turns his head to deliver, in the same conspiratorial manner "Flogger. I can use that left-handed," before nipping her earlobe, sending a pulse of pleasure straight to Ana's groin. When she literally squirms in anticipation, he chuckles and asks, "You okay, baby?"

Sensing that he's finally relaxed, Ana again settles against him and slips one hand inside his still open shirt to rest the palm on his chest as she says, "I am now."

When Ana wakes, the bed is unusually warm. Having guessed the reason, she smiles and carefully rolls over to see that Christian is still in bed and fast asleep. Lying on his stomach, arms sandwiched under his head, which is unfortunately turned away from her, and the covers concealing only the bottom half of his naked body, his beauty almost takes her breath away. As if she truly has no control over it, one hand snakes out and gently starts tracing the contours of his muscular back.

Ana feels the moment when he wakes up, his old instincts causing him to tense for a second. But then he relaxes, sighs, and says, "Already, Anastasia? Even I need rest, baby."

She knows that, despite not getting to sleep until almost dawn, after a marathon session in the playroom, he'll be ready for more. Giggling, she says, "You're not fooling anyone, Mr. Grey."

Adjusting his position a little, but still without looking at her, Christian chuckles and says, "Still, every muscle is aching this morning and my arm hurts like hell. How about you pamper me for a change?"

It's the only thing she regrets about submitting during their scenes; that she so rarely gets to just offer Christian pleasure, though the fact that he so enjoys giving her pleasure makes it easier to tolerate. Actually trembling with excitement, Ana says, "Thank you, Sir."

Christian groans, and says, "Unless you start that shit, then I won't be responsible for my actions."

Ana laughs again and says, "Sorry. Can I do anything for the arm?"

A deep sigh of pleasure, as if he's guessed what she has in mind, and Christian says, "Just distract me."

Grinning, as she suddenly flings the bedding aside to uncover his body, Ana deliberately purrs, "Yes, Sir."

Christian groans again and says, "Fuck, Ana. Would you go easy on me? I'm rock hard already."

Confident that he wouldn't really have it any other way, Ana kneels beside his legs, preparing to caress his entire body with her nipples, and promises, "No."

Despite the fact that he's clutching the edge of the mattress in need by the time Ana's breasts reach his shoulders, Christian manages to let her stay in control. Curious what it will feel like, Ana then stretches out along his back, matching skin-to-skin from toes to fingertips. Just relishing the feeling for a few seconds, Christian then rather breathlessly comments, "Wish I could see what you look like right now."

Kissing the side of his neck, Ana asks, "Want me to get the camera?"

"No, though that's a good idea. We'll reenact this and put it on timer next session. Right now I'd very much like it if you'd finally fuck me."

Grinning, Ana nuzzles his hair and murmurs, "What's the magic word?"

"Fucking now."

Ana is still saying "Actually, that's a phrase, not a word," when she's suddenly on her back, imprisoned by Christian's body. Her already acute state of arousal climbs still further at his aggressive foreplay, and she says, "I win."

Intent on his new goal, Christian imprisons her arms and pushes his knees between her legs, even as he locks her ankles in place with his, preparing to satisfy both their needs, as he absentmindedly asks, "Win what?"

Not a thought in her head that doesn't involve this gorgeous man, Ana lovingly breathes, "You."

Without further preamble, Christian slowly enters her as he hisses, "Yesss." Less than a minute later, he arches his back and stills for a few seconds, then collapses against Ana, keeping most of his weight from her as he gasps, "Fuck, I love Sundays."

Ana laughs and says, "Evidently. It's certainly nice not to have to worry what happens next for a change." When Christian smiles and slides his hand between their bodies, she protests, "No, that's okay. I really enjoy occasionally making it only about you." When he appears uncertain, she adds, "Just as much as you enjoy making it all about me."

Apparently satisfied that Ana isn't pining for her orgasm, Christian grins and rolls off her as he says, "Okay. And, as you're in such an obliging mood, maybe you could fetch my breakfast and newspaper?"

Laughing, Ana heads to the en suite as she says, "I can do that."

After a toilet break, Ana dons only a toweling robe before heading back into the bedroom, to see that Christian is again asleep. Clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle her joyful laughter, she tiptoes out of the room and gently closes the door before heading to the kitchen. As usual, one of their loyal minions has left his favorite newspaper on the counter. Knowing that Christian must be truly exhausted to sleep like this for the first time since she's known him, Ana decides to bother with a full breakfast.

Only later, when she's arranging a tray with the fruits of her labors, does she notice that the newspaper is opened to the entertainment page for a reason; the opening lines of the gossip column read, "Ever wondered what happens behind the closed doors of those black-tie events?"

The picture is grainy and the lighting isn't great, but it's captured the moment when Christian does the aerial cartwheel to escape Jacque's hold. The article offers only sketchy details about the fight and is careful to not come out and actually state identities, merely saying "rumored to be." But Ana knows that her security conscious husband will want answers. Scanning her memory for who's on duty this morning, Ana remembers and guesses that the coward is lurking nearby. Sure enough, he appears, looking very sheepish, when she bellows, "Luke!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Do we know who took this photo?"

"No, ma'am. Security tried to keep an eye out for such subterfuge, but it was a big crowd and the…perpetrator was careful to avoid using a tell-tale flash. Their online edition also features the photo, so it could be anywhere by now. As you can see, it's poor quality, but unfortunately not quite poor enough; anyone who knows Mr. Grey will recognize him…same for Mr. Pretorius."

Genuinely pissed that Christian's generous gesture, to help Jacque start his business, should result in more harassment by the press, Ana runs a frustrated hand through her hair as she silently contemplates violence towards the smiling headshot of the columnist and then asks, "Can we make them retract it?"

"No, ma'am. I checked with Legal. As there's no slander and the venue is technically a public place, there's nothing to be done. Perhaps Mr….uh, you and Mr. Grey could apply pressure on the columnist or newspaper, but that may only make matters worse. I'm sorry, Ana."

"Not your fault. Thank you." Clearly grateful for the dismissal, Sawyer's heading for the door when Ana adds, "Oh, and thank you for including me in your statement."

Turning back for a second, Sawyer, says, "Of course. You and Mr. Grey are a team. Anyone who doesn't recognize that is in for a huge shock and a big disappointment."

Genuinely moved by this assertion, Ana says, "Thank you. Oh, why were you so afraid about the article? You weren't even there last night."

Again looking ashamed, Ryan confesses, "I was worried you might order me to tell Mr. Grey."

Ana laughs and says, "Wuss. But, rest assured, I'm not that cruel. And I'll try to make sure he doesn't take it out on the staff that were there…no promises, you understand?"

"Understood. Thanks, Ana. If you need me, I'll be hiding in the office."

Ana laughs again, surprisingly at ease now that she knows there's nothing to be done about this new drama, and jokes, "Don't hide too well. I may need protection any minute now."

Clearly unready to accept the possibility of Christian taking his anger out on her, Sawyer inclines his head and says "If you say so, Ana," before leaving.

Her cell is still in the bedroom, so Ana uses the landline to call their publicist, who answers, "Garth."

"Adam, it's Ana. Sorry to ring you on a Sunday, but…"

"Yeah. I've seen it. Wish you'd told me this was going down. I could have done something last night. There's no hope of reining it in now, even if we go after the paper."

"I didn't know. It was a spur of the moment thing. Christian thought it might help Jacque with his business."

"Undoubtedly." After a moment, Adam says, "Still, it might be a good thing. Anything that humanizes Christian without making him appear weak can only be good for his reputation. Though, by the look of it, he's more super-human. Is he okay?"

"Fine, thank you. Sleeping in for a change. So, you advise that we ignore it?"

"I advise that there's not a damn thing you can do about it now that it's online, and any action may exacerbate matters."

"Okay. Thanks, Adam. And thank you, for looking into it on a Sunday morning."

"Welcome, Ana. But next time he pulls a stunt like this, give me a call, okay? No matter what the hour."

"I sincerely hope he'll never do it again. But I'll remember, thank you."

Rearranging the newspaper, to look as if it's untouched, Ana finishes loading the breakfast tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom. Christian appears asleep, but opens his eyes and asks, "What took you so long?"

"You mean, other than you were fast asleep?"

Eyes twinkling, he jokes, "I was just resting my eyes."

Putting the tray on his lap and climbing in beside him, Ana teases, "And quietly snoring. I'm glad you slept." Gesturing to his arm, she asks, "Did you take something for it?"

"Uh, huh; sexy wife." At her tender glare, he adds, "Yes, I took something. Thanks for breakfast."

Ana tries to keep her cool as they eat. But her covert glances at the newspaper alert him, and Christian asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious. Check the entertainment section." As he complies, Ana says, "Luke and Adam already checked; they don't know who sneaked a photo, and we can't sue the paper or make them retract anything."

Having already scanned the article, Christian is reaching for his phone as he says, "We'll fucking see about that."

"Please, darling. Let's just enjoy our day off and not worry about it. Even if you can get through to the editor on a Sunday, anything you say will further convince them that it's you in the photo."

Christian hesitates, staring at his phone for several seconds and then replaces it before saying, "Fuck. You're right. You okay about this?"

Relieved that their morning won't dissolve into Christian bellowing into his phone, Ana assures him, "I'm fine; just worried how you'd react. You're not going to take it out on the staff, are you?"

Immediately back to angry, Christian says, "I told them to make sure everyone kept their phones out of sight."

Wondering if she'll ever be able to confront him without this pounding of her heartbeat, Ana says, "An impossible task, given the situation; low light, lots of noise and a hopeless disparity in numbers."

Christian holds her gaze for a while, his expression eventually softening into a quiet smile and he says, "I've always been impressed with your powers of negotiation. I'll make sure they know you're on their side."

Smiling, Ana shakes her head and insists, "I'm on your side. You'll just feel like crap if you unjustly punish them." When his eyes blaze with passion at the word "punish", Ana laughs and says, "Oh, no. I'm still sore from last night. Finish your breakfast."

Grinning, Christian says, "Yes, ma'am."

When they're done, Christian puts the tray aside and silently invites Ana into his embrace. Smiling, she settles against his side and asks, "So, what are we doing today?"

"How about we get our twenty minutes out of the way, soak in a bath until my body recovers and then make love until our eyes pop out?"

Ana giggles and says, "Good plan. You want to go first?"

"Uh, okay. I was really impressed that you bothered to check the angles before showing me the newspaper article. Knowing that you'd already investigated made it easier to calm down."

"Exactly why I did it. And, thank you. You ready to talk about what you and Grace discussed last night?"

Christian groans and says, "I guess so."

"We don't have to. I don't really need to know."

"It's okay, baby…just…she hinted that Elena's sexual preferences are not the best kept secret in the world."

"That she prefers young men?"

"No, baby. To my knowledge, I'm her only conquest that violates that taboo. I'm speaking of her fondness for kink."

"Oh. So…Grace knows that you and I…?"

"Well, she was too embarrassed to ask for specifics, and there's no fucking way I was about to volunteer details, but I don't think she'd be too surprised if one or both of us ever show up with bondage marks on our wrists." When Ana says nothing, he eventually asks, "Okay, baby?"

"I think so. Just trying to imagine the impossibility of ever again looking your mother in the eye."

Christian laughs and says, "Right there with you, baby. It was excruciating. But I'm glad to have no more secrets between us." After a moment, he reveals, "She also threatened me."

"With what?"

"Uh, pretty much every bad thing imaginable, if I ever hurt you in any way."

Ana giggles and says, "Okay, I'm better now. She's amazing."

"Apparently, the feeling is mutual. She also demanded assurance that Elena wouldn't be permitted to have anything to do with her future grandchildren, and was happy to hear that you'd already exacted that promise from me."

This time Ana only smiles and says, "Good." Her thoughts turned in a specific direction by the comment, she then asks, "Did you ever try to track down your father? Oh, you okay talking about that?"

"I'm okay, but there's nothing to say. The fucker was either dead or didn't give a damn about me. Why would I bother?"

Wary of his sudden unease, Ana gently asks, "Well, aren't you worried at least about genetic conditions? I mean, you seem healthy, but…I'm sorry."

"It's okay, baby. That used to be one of my fears, so I found out; cost me a small fortune, but it was money well spent, and furthered their research."

"What?"

"Genome mapping. I've had my pedigree analyzed. I know exactly what problems I've inherited and will pass on to any offspring."

"And?"

"Predisposition to heart disease, obesity and diabetes, which is curbed by diet and exercise. Unsurprisingly, I possess a variation of a gene common in people addicted to alcohol or cocaine, and will always struggle with that peril. Plus a clotting issue that will only be a problem if we have a daughter; easily countered by medication, if necessary. That one's recessive, though, so might not even be an issue. The good news is that there's an equal chance any offspring would be naturally resistant to malaria."

"Well, that's something. Clotting issue?"

"Yeah, my birth mother would have had abnormal menstrual bleeding, bruised easily – I do remember always seeing bruises on her – and had difficulty carrying a pregnancy to term. It would also explain why I was underweight as a baby." When these revelations are met only with silence, Christian reminds her, "This time is for talking, baby."

"Yes. But you don't like when I empathize with her."

"It's okay, baby. I can't feel sorry for her, but she was certainly a tragic figure, and we've agreed that nothing is forbidden during our twenty minutes."

After only a moment's more hesitation, Ana says, "I was just thinking that, if she'd had miscarriages in the past, your birth must have seemed like a miracle. She must have loved you very much."

Predictably, Christian tenses in defiance of the concept. After a few seconds, he relaxes somewhat and bleakly declares, "If she'd loved me, she would have fucking given me up. We lived in the worst part of Detroit, but I could have pissed out the window and hit someone who'd have done a better job at raising me than she did. Fucking bitch doomed me with her selfishness." It's a conversation killer. After a while, Christian attempts a laugh and says, "Yeah, maybe you're right; not ready to talk about her. I'm sorry, babe."

Relieved and grateful that he's dragged himself out of his mordancy, Ana rests a hand on his chest and says, "It's okay, darling. Thank you, for sharing that much. Even though it pains me you feel that way, I'm thrilled that you're at least able to express it now. You were so long without a voice, even after you managed to speak." After a smile, she continues, "Grace says it shocked the hell out of them. You just suddenly started talking; whole sentences, as if you'd never stopped."

Christian chuckles and says, "Yeah. It was fear, not lack of ability, that had kept me mute. Though my mouth had trouble forming the words for a while, and my vocabulary was stunted. But I caught up pretty quick, by becoming a voracious reader."

"What was the first thing you said?"

"She hasn't told you? Well, that's a surprise; she's not known for discretion. My first word in that family was 'Mia' and she's never let me forget it." When Ana is again silent for several seconds, Christian's voice is kind when he says, "You're crying again, aren't you?"

"No…a little. I think I'd like that bath now, please."

Where credit's due: cr8tiveink for asking what would happen if Christian tried to find out about his father. Not quite the answer to your question, but I enjoyed thinking about it, thank you. Perhaps Ana will eventually persuade him to investigate.