Author's technical difficulties: Just a short one. But my internet is dropping out for several hours at a time, so thought I'd better post what I've got. For the same reason, some comments may not have received my reply, and the next chapter may be a while. Tech is coming out on Saturday, so hopefully all will be well soon. Thank you, for reading.

Chapter Twenty-six

It's Wednesday morning and Ana wakes up feeling well rested and deliciously sore in all the right places. She and Christian hadn't fucked twenty-six times, but she certainly felt like they'd made up for their enforced drought. Blushing at the memory of how Christian had – once he got over his fear of hurting her or the baby – shown her in so many different ways that he found her changing body very attractive, Ana ponders how it never feels embarrassing in the moment, only the next morning.

Not surprisingly, given that he'd exhausted himself bringing pleasure to both of them, her husband is still fast asleep beside her, and she prays that his nightmares left him alone for a few hours. Looking around, it's evident that he tidied while she slept, and Ana smiles at the memory of forcing him to be messy for a moment last night. It had been fun being the one calling the shots for a change, but nothing in that role thrilled her like it does to follow his lead. Just the thought of it is enough to stir the passion within her, and she stares at his perfect profile as she realizes that there is one more benefit to her working from home; morning sex.

Suddenly, her reverie is broken by the baby moving; a real movement, not those little flutters that felt like a tiny goldfish swimming inside her. Afraid that it might stop at any moment, and not wanting Christian to miss out, she reaches out blindly to grab him and unfortunately slaps his face. "What the…? Fuck, Ana." From softly snoring to alert in only moments, he then asks, "What's wrong?"

Putting a finger to her lips, she points at her belly. She sees the comprehension on his face as he slides a hand under the covers and onto her abdomen. She knows he feels it too when, as the baby moves again, his gaze jumps to hers, his expression filled with wonder, and he whispers, "Our baby."

Almost too happy for words, Ana smiles and just as quietly echoes, "Our baby."

They just lie like that for a while, and the baby eventually settles down. Then cradling Ana in his arms, Christian kisses her forehead and asks, "First time?"

"Uh, huh. First time I've noticed, anyway. I suppose it could have happened while I was asleep." He's so quiet, for so long, that she asks, "You okay?"

Lifting her gaze to his, Christian reveals the excess moisture in his eyes as he promises, "Ecstatic." Suddenly sitting up, he grabs her hand as he excitedly says, "Come with me. I wanna try something."

Laughing in shared joy at his enthusiasm, Ana protests, "Christian, I've just woken up, I'm naked, and I need to pee."

Undaunted, Christian says, "Then hurry up and throw something on. I'll be at the piano."

Of course, the music filling the apartment by the time she's finished in the bathroom means that such direction wasn't necessary. Ana knows Christian won't begrudge her the time it takes to have a snack and drink of water. Then she dons her silk robe before joining him. He's wearing only his pajama pants and she's transported back to another time, seemingly so long ago, though it's only been months, and she just drinks in the sight of him for a while. Somehow sensing her presence, Christian looks up and motions her over. Smiling, she approaches and asks, "So, what's this about?"

Motioning that she should sit beside him, Christian explains, "Research. Apparently, in-utero babies prefer fast paced music, of any sort, and will even remember their favorites after birth. Now that Blip is moving, we can work out what they like. You can do the same with your music belt."

He's so excited that she's is finding it difficult not to just laugh in celebration. Worried that he might think she's laughing at him, Ana limits her reaction to an apparently permanent smile and says, "Okay, Prof, what do I do?"

With a quick kiss, he says, "Just sit there and tell me if the baby starts moving."

"Yes, Sir."

Kissing her again, a bit longer this time, he orders, "And cut that out. You haven't had breakfast."

Still unable to lose the smile, Ana asks, "But it's okay to experiment on our baby before I've eaten?"

Unrepentant, Christian teases, "The baby is inside you, so I'm afraid you're necessary for this part of the process. Besides, you taste like blueberries, so I know you're not starving. Now keep still."

Still struggling not to break out in happy laughter, Ana puts a hand on her belly and relaxes as Christian starts a lively tune that she soon recognizes as "My Sharona" by The Knack. Sure enough, the baby starts moving again, so she taps Christian's arm. Thrilled, he stops playing and puts both hands on her belly to detect the fetal gymnastics. When they again subside, he returns to the keys and starts a slow tune that Ana knows almost instantly: "Bridge Over Troubled Water". This stirs the baby, too. A couple more tunes – one by Mozart and then by Vivaldi – and it's soon evident that any music works. Shaking his head, Christian lifts Ana onto his lap as he says, "Crap. I'm not sure if this is a success or failure."

Ana finally laughs and points out, "And we don't even know if the movements express like or dislike."

Obviously disappointed, Christian pouts, "Well, fuck, we might as well have breakfast."

Grinning, Ana teases, "Do you think they hear everything?"

Not sounding very upset, Christian growls, "Don't fucking start. I'm doing the best I can. 'Fuck' was probably the first word I ever heard, in and out of the womb."

Genuinely proud of him, despite the fact that he effectively just proved her point, Ana says, "You're doing fantastically. I almost can't believe you've gone from panicked to paternal in only a matter of months."

With that modest shrug that is now poignantly familiar to her, Christian says, "Yeah, well, I still have a lot to make up for. And I told you; I can't fuck this up."

"You won't. You're already a success, just because you care."

"Thank you, baby." Then staring at Ana as his expression changes from love to lust, Christian eventually asks, "Do you have to start work at a particular time?"

Surprised and pleased that they're back to sexy again, Ana merely smiles and shakes her head.

Her oncologist, Carl Renner, warmly greets Ana and Christian, inviting them to sit, even as he does so. Without preamble, he says, "Good news, across the board. There appears to be no complications from the surgery, and all of your tests and scans are clear." Suddenly more serious, he continues, "Now, you know this doesn't mean you're cured, right?"

It's Ana who answers, "Yes, you said. Dolores could come back, even though nothing is showing up on the MRI or other tests. But Christian and I would still prefer to hold our baby before I start radiotherapy."

Then looking to Christian, who only nods his agreement, Renner says, "Well, do either of you have any questions for me?"

Christian defers to Ana, but she shrugs, so he says, "What about air travel?"

As one, Ana and Renner ask, "Air travel?"

When Christian offers no explanation, Renner nervously glances between them before asking, "Uh, is it urgent?"

"Only in that Pam Greene says it's a bad idea in the third trimester. She's already given her approval, on the understanding that we'll be traveling with a nurse qualified to perform both neurological and fetal monitoring."

"Well, there's no air trapped at the wound site, which would be a huge concern. If you take all precautions, and I'm confident you will, it should be all right. But I'd still prefer you wait a couple of weeks, just in case."

"Perfect. Thank you. Oh, what about the…" Then pointing to Ana's head, before touching his own, Christian's panic center catches up with what he's saying and he has to swallow before continuing, "The screws in Ana's skull? Will they be a problem at airports?"

"Shouldn't be. They're titanium and small enough that they won't set off even the most sensitive of metal detectors. But I'll send you a detailed explanation of Ana's condition, to carry with you, just in case there are any issues."

With no other questions from the couple and a slight tension in the room, Renner soon says his goodbyes. They're not even out of the building when Ana plants her feet and repeats, "Air travel?"

Unconcerned, Christian takes her in his arms and says, "Not a secret, baby; a surprise. If I tell you, it won't be any longer."

Somewhat appeased – she really does enjoy Christian's surprises – Ana pouts, "Well, for how long?"

"Just a couple of weeks. You need a break…fuck, even our security detail need a break. Oh, one thing; can you stand Carla in a vacation type situation for that long?"

"My Mom? We're going on vacation with my Mom?"

Again taking her hand and leading her towards the door, Christian lowers his voice to say, "Yes, and we'll continue this in the car. Things are bad enough now without advertising our movements."

Once they're safe in the car, Ana pronounces, "Yes."

"You can tolerate your Mom for that long?"

Ana laughs and says, "Of course I can. But I meant, yes, I agree with you; we need a break. Not that it apparently matters what I think."

Grinning, Christian says, "No, it doesn't. But, thank you."

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

Christian considers for a few seconds and says, "Not yet. I want to keep the surprise for a bit longer."

Ana considers the chances of extracting the secret from him, quickly deciding that it's not worth even trying. Instead, she asks, "What about Bob?"

"He can't get away. And we all agreed that this is a time for some mother and daughter bonding."

Still pouting slightly, Ana complains, "Everyone except me, it seems."

Brushing the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip, Christian murmurs, "God, what I could do to that lip."

As always, helpless to resist Christian when he's in such a playful, flirtatious mood, Ana's pique is kept to a mock glare and, "Too bad you have work."

Gently kissing her, he then says, "Yes, it's a little distracting knowing that you're at home every day. Maybe I should start coming home for lunch."

"Do you even stop for lunch?"

Smiling at her cleverness, he says, "Only if it's also a business meeting. I usually just eat at my desk. But, I can change."

It's an ongoing theme between them when Ana asks, "Not too much, I hope?"

"Just enough to be a halfway decent husband and father. Oh, I worked out why I had to give the ten reasons."

"Oh?"

Putting a hand on her belly, he says, "You had to be sure that I wasn't choosing fatherhood just so you'll stay with me."

Almost in tears, an unfortunately common state as her pregnancy progresses, Ana whispers, "Yes. I was only sure after your tenth reason."

"I mean it, you know? I'm not sure I did at first…not completely, anyway." Then looking at where his hand is caressing affectionate circles over their baby, Christian says, "But, somewhere along the way, it became true. I really do love Little Blip." With a wry grin, he adds, "Which is bringing up a whole new set of fears. But Flynn is nipping them in the bud, and assures me that fear for my child's safety is actually a good sign."

"I think so, too. Thank you."

"For?"

"Loving our child."

With a carefree smile, Christian says, "They're half you. How could I not?"

Again struggling to contain her happy tears, Ana asks, "Can I please get through one day without crying?"

Christian chuckles and says, "I doubt it."

Christian is at his computer, lost in a virtual world, at Grey House when Andrea knocks on the door and enters – one of the few people in the world permitted to do so – and drops a couple of papers on his desk as she reminds him, "You said that you were taking an early lunch?"

Cursing himself for losing track of time, Christian shuts his computer and says, "Oh, right. Thanks." Unable to keep the grin from his face, he reveals, "Ana's working from home until things settle down, so I thought I'd surprise her."

Andrea also smiles and says, "And how is Mrs. Grey? Linda says we still get several phone calls a day from reporters posing as all sorts of people." When Christian's brow furrows in concern at this, she quickly adds, "She knows what to do."

Losing the frown, Christian says, "Mrs. Grey is very well, thank you. She's eating like a horse and napping sometimes twice a day…oh, you don't need to mention that I said that, if you talk to her."

A small laugh and Andrea says, "Of course not, sir. Will you be back later?"

"Yes. Forward any important calls to my cell. Otherwise, I'll deal with it when I get back."

"Yes, sir."

Eager, as ever, to see his wife, Christian has already texted Reynolds that he's heading for home. So his current bodyguard is waiting by the open door of the car as Christian exits the elevator into the parking garage. Of course, they have their share of paparazzi to deal with, but Reynolds is experienced and merely edges the car through the cameras – that have no hope of penetrating the tinted rear windows – before zipping away at a barely legal speed that would make it difficult for anyone to follow; weaving his way through the rain, on a circuitous route to Escala, where they unfortunately have to again push through a group of photographers. So Christian's mood is as dark as the weather by the time the elevator pings his arrival at the apartment.

Hearing voices in the kitchen, he heads that way, soon realizing that the man talking to Ana is someone unfamiliar. Immediately wary, he stealthily enters to see a young man sitting at the breakfast counter, unashamedly staring at Ana's ass while she retrieves something from the refrigerator as she asks, "Diet, or regular?"

"Diet, thanks."

The guy immediately sits up straight as Ana turns, so he won't be caught ogling. Of course, she sees Christian, and his growing anger is somewhat appeased by her obvious delight on seeing him. "Christian! What a lovely surprise. What on earth are you doing home so early?"

All this time, Christian's attention is fixed on the now frightened interloper.

Yeah, you should be frightened, you fucker.

A smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and Christian approaches as he says, "Thought I'd dine at home today, with my wife." Barely suppressed rage simmering just below the surface, he claims a kiss from Ana that would make a whore blush. Then turning a withering gaze on their "guest", his voice is deathly calm as he adds, "But I see that you're busy."

A crimson flush of embarrassment and passion on her face, Ana stammers, "Uh, Christian, this is B…Ben; you met the last time you came to the office. Hannah is off with the flu, and Ben kindly offered to assist for today. "

Remembering him now – American-born of Korean parents, twenty-three years old, no criminal record, started at what was then SIP in 2005 – Christian accepts the offered hand and deliberately exerts a bruising pressure as he coolly says, "Ah, yes; Benjamin Huan, right? How are you enjoying your job at Grey Publishing?"

He can see that Ben has got the message. After all, this now terrified young man doesn't know that Christian has promised his wife that he'll stay out of her work concerns. Ben flexes the pain from his crushed hand as he says, "Uh, yes, I like it very much…I mean, it's a good job, thank you." Then turning his scared rabbit gaze on Ana, he says, "Speaking of which, I'd better get back."

"What about your drink?"

Not even game now to look at Christian, Ben tells Ana, "No, that's okay, thank you. I'll, uh, see you on Monday...at work."

About to offer to walk the guy out, so he can really let him know the score, Christian is thwarted by Ana's, "Taylor!"

The man in question appears, making Christian wonder where he'd been lurking, and says, "Mrs. Grey?"

"Would you please escort Ben to the elevator?"

"Yes, ma'am." Nodding to Christian, Taylor acknowledges "Sir," before motioning for Ben to precede him out the door.

The second the two men are out of sight, Ana turns her furious gaze on him, so Christian guesses he's in big trouble. Knowing that he's in the right this time, because she doesn't have all the information, he holds his hands up to forestall her tirade and says, "Before you take my head off, the guy was undressing you with his eyes while your back was turned."

Mimicking his tone, she quotes, "Undressing you with his eyes." Throwing up her hands in despair, she then practically slams the soda can on the counter as she says, "God, Grey, you're not Victorian, you're medieval! What the fuck does it matter if he's gawking at me? Nothing is going to happen. You know that."

Wondering how she can be so obtuse, when she knows him better than anyone does, Christian's anger rises to meet hers, though he keeps his tone moderate as he says, "It matters because you're mine. And no pimply-fucking-faced youth gets to stare at you like he wants to take you up the ass over this very counter."

Her mouth drops open in shock at this brutal imagery. Now literally shaking with rage, Ana manages to breathe some calm into her body and says, "I am yours, Christian. You know very well that I've never even considered being with anyone else. That's why it hurts me when you do something like this and prove yet again that you still don't trust me!" Her voice rising to almost a shout on the last few words and her hands unconsciously curling into fists at her side, confirms that she's very upset, but she almost immediately forces her body to relax again and waits for his reply.

Utterly confused, Christian shakes his head and reassures her, "But I do trust you, baby. It's him I don't fucking trust. What if he got it into his perverted little mind that he could do more than look?"

Crossing her arms in the international sign of a thoroughly pissed off woman, Ana says, "Go on, tell me what would happen."

"What?"

"Tell me what would happen if Ben…let's say, grabbed my ass?"

Pure, red rage flooding his vision at the very thought, Christian means every word when he spits out, "I'd rip his fucking arm off and beat him to death with it."

Her manner clearly indicating that she's won the argument, Ana calmly asks, "And if you're not here to perpetrate this bloodthirsty display of testosterone fuelled overkill?"

It's one of his biggest fears, and has only increased since she fell pregnant; that someone might try something inappropriate with Ana when he's not around to protect her, and he can only splutter, "I'd fucking…fuck." Finally, the inevitable dissipation of his anger shows him the truth – though her lessons with Claude are on hold since they learned of the tumor, Christian knows that Ana wasn't exaggerating when she said that Ray taught her self-defense – and he smiles before saying, "You'd kick his scrawny little ass."

"Exactly."

When Ana only stands there, silently daring him to do the right thing, Christian hesitates only long enough to get the wording right before saying, "I'm sorry, baby. I understand now that my paranoid reaction to that fucker ogling what's mine may have been perceived by you as a lack of faith in your ability to look after yourself. I trust you to fend off any unwanted advances, and I know that they will always be unwanted."

He can tell that it's worked when Ana's shoulders relax a little and she's trying not to smile as she asks, "This is going to happen again, isn't it?"

Recognizing it as forgiveness, Christian laughs his relief and says, "Probably. And I'll apologize then, too." Daring to approach, he rests his hands on her hips and asks, "Can we eat, now?"

"No; absolutely not. You show up, unannounced, kiss me like that, piss me off and then want lunch? I don't think so, Mr. Grey."

Unable to keep the slight grin from his face, Christian exaggerates rolling his eyes and asks, as if under a reluctant burden of duty, "I have to fuck you again, don't I?"

Grinning, as she finally unfolds her arms, sliding her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to lock them in place behind his neck, Ana suddenly jumps up, knowing that Christian will catch and assist her. Legs now wrapped around his waist, she declares, "Abso-fucking-lutely."