Author's note: I have a good news/bad news for you. A few of you know that I started my first Castle fanfic, because I started waking before dawn, unable to get back to sleep. About ten days ago, this condition fixed itself as mysteriously as it had appeared, and I now get to laze in bed until around 7am...luxury! Good news is I'm no longer sleep deprived, and should make fewer mistakes. Bad news is that I don't have those two hours of darkness every morning for writing, so updates will be further apart. Thank you, for reading.

Chapter Thirty-one

When Ana wakes, it's to see Christian's face only inches from hers. He's apparently dressed and showered, probably even been for a run. Used to this by now, Ana rolls onto her back and lazily stretches as she asks, "Are you ever going to stop doing that?"

Unrepentant, he smiles and says, "If you ever stop looking like an angel when you sleep, I'll stop watching you. Did you have fun last night?"

Remembering that she screamed his name during sex, even though her mother is just next door, Ana blushes and says, "I think that much was quite evident."

Christian laughs and says, "No, baby; did you enjoy the party?"

"Oh, yes, thank you. They're all so welcoming that it honestly feels like I'm already part of this family, even though they were strangers until last night. Did you cope okay without me? I know that your concern for my safety goes into overdrive when we're apart, especially since Dolores."

Surprisingly okay with what would have seemed like weakness in the past, Christian shrugs and says, "Until you didn't answer your phone; yes, I was fine. I know you won't deliberately do anything to make me anxious, and you're not going to hit the tequila while you're pregnant." It's a not very subtle reference to the only time she's ever been drunk, and they both know it, so Ana just glares at him until he very unconvincingly says, "Sorry."

Heading to the bathroom, Ana complains, "I think there should be some sort of statute of limitations on this sort of thing."

"You could have Brit look into it, but I don't like your chances. I'm pretty sure you vomiting on your shoes will remain funny forever."

Ana shuts the bathroom door perhaps a little harder than is necessary and takes her time before returning to the bedroom, only to see that Christian has bothered to prepare a cup of tea for her, and he says, "English Breakfast seems particularly appropriate this morning. I thought you might like a cup before facing the breakfast buffet and whomever of your hung-over relatives show up for the free meal; your mother is among the sufferers and is having a light breakfast in her room."

Any resentment at his teasing evaporates and she offers him a grateful kiss. When he obliges but doesn't wrap his arms around her naked body, she asks, "We have to go soon?"

His jaw clenching in frustration, Christian says, "If you want to make like a monkey, yes. I have plans for this morning. I've already talked to Pru; we'll Go Ape in the afternoon."

Taking pity on him, Ana dons her robe before sitting on the bed to sip her tea and ask, "Do you ever start the day without a plan?"

"Only since meeting you. Even as a young child I would write down a list of goals for each day."

Almost horrified at this revelation, delivered without dramatic inflection, Ana exclaims, "Not really?"

The hint of a smile on his lips at her stunned reaction, Christian says, "Yes, baby. You can't achieve all I've done without being good at planning."

"What sort of things were on your childhood list?"

With a shrug, Christian reveals, "Oh, learn proper etiquette for the dinner table, practice the latest piece on piano…uh, football, baseball, bicycle; all the stuff that most privileged kids know."

"Did you ever just play as a child?"

"Eventually, yes."

"When you were confident that they wouldn't send you back?"

Warily appraising her mood, Christian says, "Yes. Don't make yourself sad over this, okay? It happened to a different person than who I am now, partly because of you."

He's right; it was a long time ago. So Ana forces the clouds from her mind and smiles, then suggests, "How about, when we return home, we make Sunday 'No Plan Day'?"

Christian chuckles and says, "We practically do that now. Unless we have family obligations, we pretty much spend the day in bed. And wouldn't giving it a name kind of go against the whole concept?"

Warming to the idea, Ana says, "Not at all. We can still do stuff, but it must be impromptu; nothing that has been scheduled."

Cringing at the thought, Christian says, "Not even a call ahead, to make sure that a venue is open?"

"Nope. Nothing."

"Sounds horrible."

"Then we're on the right track. I think this will be good for you."

Easing onto the bed beside her, Christian toys with the sash at her waist as he says, "I have a difficult time refusing you anything when you're wearing only silk."

Her heart hammering in response to the fire in his gaze and tone, Ana gulps and says, "I'll remember that. I thought we had to get going?"

Taking the half empty mug from her hands and setting it aside, Christian says, "We do. So get your delectable arse into some casual clothes."

Giggling, Ana gets off the bed and heads to the closet as she says, "You like that word a lot."

Emphasizing his words with a firm pinch of Ana's butt, eliciting an outraged yelp from her, Christian says, "I like yours."

By the time they've made their way downstairs to the function room, Ann Lambert is at the head of the long table, surrounded by about a dozen or so of last night's revelers. Everyone rowdily greets the couple as they enter the room. They acknowledge the greetings and Christian murmurs, "Remember that I have plans?"

Knowing that he's asking rather than telling, because he wouldn't really drag her away if she's having a good time, Ana smiles and promises, "I will." Looking at the dizzying array of food available at the buffet, and nodding a greeting to their chef, Andy, she asks, "What do you recommend?"

Beaming, Andy says, "As you're eating for two, you could probably manage the Full Monty."

Looking to Christian for the answer, who merely shrugs, Ana says, "The what?"

"Allegedly named after Field Marshal Montgomery. It's a full English breakfast: eggs, sausage, black pudding, black bacon, mushrooms, baked beans, fried bread, and a vine-ripened tomato."

"All that for one person?"

Christian laughs and says, "Yes, baby. Haven't you heard that to eat well in England, you should have breakfast three times a day?" Then addressing Andy, he says, "Two, please."

"Eggs?"

Still smiling at Ana's shocked expression, Christian says, "What the heck; fry them, too."

"Have a seat. I'll bring them over."

Christian notes with pleasure that Pru hasn't yet surfaced. They've made room for Ana next to her great-aunt, and the two women are immediately deep in conversation. Scanning his memory for all the names he learned last night, Christian asks the older man next to him, "Bill?"

"Well done. I didn't think you hung around long enough to know."

If it's criticism, it's offered without malice, so Christian shrugs and says, "Last night was for Ana."

Leaning a little closer, Bill says, "I don't blame you for hiding. They're a terrifying bunch when they get going."

The man's easy manner putting Christian at ease, he actually starts to enjoy himself. By the time he's run out of polite topics, their meals have arrived, again putting Ana into food shock. Christian laughs and says, "It's okay, baby. I'll finish whatever you cannot." He's impressed and oddly proud when she almost empties the oversized plate. Finally replete, he sits back and addresses no one in particular to say, "Well, we'd better hit the road."

"Where are you off to, this morning?"

Christian doesn't recall the young woman's name and says, as he stands to help Ana from her chair, "I'm afraid that I can't tell you; every location is a surprise for Anastasia. We'll be back after lunch."

The woman makes an annoying mewling sound. Unsure how to respond, Christian merely smiles as he takes Ana's hand and heads back to their room. When they're out of earshot, Ana says, "You know they're all in love with you, right?"

"What? Your relatives? I don't think so. I've barely spoken with them."

Smiling at how he still doesn't see himself as others do, Ana says, "Gorgeous billionaire who's so intent on showing his wife a good time that he's traced her family tree and is taking her on a once in a lifetime tour of her ancestors' home. I'm surprised we don't have women following us, begging to join in."

Used to the effect he has on women, Christian shrugs and says, "It's just my appearance, baby. Something about this face turns them on."

"Darling, it's not your face, though you are gorgeous; your personality is what they fall for. Did you see any of the other husbands waiting on their wives?"

He'd fetched anything Ana needed while she ate – HP sauce at Ann's recommendation, salt and pepper, orange juice, a second cup of tea – but hadn't thought anything of it. "I don't give a fuck how other guys do it. You deserve to be waited on. If you'd permit it, I'd do everything for you."

Laughing that someone so smart can still be so clueless, Ana shakes her head and says, "I give up. But I really hope that one day you understand what makes you irresistible."

Grinning, Christian says, "I don't need to understand it, so long as you can't resist me."

"I certainly find it very difficult. Do we have time for me to remind you?"

They're almost to their door when Pru suddenly enters the corridor from a nearby room. On seeing them she winks and says, "Smile if you had sex last night." Looking at Christian, she then says, "Okay; scowl if you had sex last night. Lighten up, Christian. I'm pretty sure everyone who stayed here knows…"

Desperate to ease Christian's growing tension, Ana interrupts, "You're still in time for breakfast if you hurry. We'll see you this afternoon."

Breezing by them, kissing Ana's cheek in greeting as she does so, Pru says, "Excellent. Nothing better than a good fry-up to cure what ails me. I'll see you lovebirds later."

Christian watches her go with murder in his eyes and mutters, "I really don't like that woman."

Easing her slightly crushed hand from his, Ana laughs and flexes it as she says, "Evidently."

Immediately contrite, Christian cradles her hand in both of his and raises it to his lips before saying, "Sorry." Then turning to open their door, he continues, "And, in answer to your question, we don't have time right now. But I will give you the chance, later…hopefully a little quieter next time."

As they enter the room, Ana says, "You're not really bothered by what Pru said, are you?"

His expression pained, Christian says, "It's no one's fucking business whether or not we fuck."

Not for the first time mystified by the anomaly that is her husband, Ana says, "Darling, I'm pregnant. I think they know."

Clearly uncomfortable with the entire discussion, Christian explains, "Before I met you, not even my family knew that I had sex. Now, all of Norfolk knows."

Surprisingly unconcerned, given how shy she was when they met, Ana laughs and says, "If they do, I'm sure they're just jealous that I'm married to such a stud."

With that boyish grin she'd do anything for, Christian says, "Well, that's true."

It takes some doing to get bodyguards, nurse and mother-in-law into the Range Rover with them, but Ana and Christian are finally underway on this clear but cool winter's day. Carla instantly bonds with Bree, which is just as well since they're forced to sit next to each other. Ana stifles her laugh when Carla lowers her shades only enough to show her bloodshot eyes and confess, "Not quite enough orange juice in my vodka last night."

Bree laughs a little and says, "I've seen worse…occasionally in the mirror. Just keep sipping that water. You'll be fine."

It's enough that the two women are soon lost in conversation, leaving the couple effectively alone. Glad that Carla has a friend for the journey, Ana feels Christian's stare and glances at him, only to see that he's actually staring at her rounded belly. Shuffling in his seat so that he can comfortably rest a hand over their son, he quietly says, "Last night, I forgot. I'm sorry."

He hasn't yet met her eyes, so Ana comprehends that he's talking to the baby – apologizing for not reminding their son that he's loved – and wordlessly places a hand over his in support. When he finally lifts his gaze to hers, she whispers, "I'm sorry, too."

"You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."

"No, but I could have eased your pain. Unfortunately, I was too lost in my own melancholy. Despite how it sometimes feels, you're not actually in control of my moods, darling. If I'm sad, it's mostly nothing to do with you."

After a glance to check that the older women are indeed distracted, Christian quietly says, "Yeah, Flynn says that, too. But I can't endure you suffering."

"You can. We know this, because you have. Your strength since my diagnosis has been incredible. I could have had a breakdown with all that's happened, but knowing that you were staying strong for me gave me the courage to get through each day."

His brow puckered in confusion, Christian says, "I'm not sure what you're asking of me, baby."

"Uh, I guess that…I mostly hide it from you when things are getting me down, because you always feel responsible and try to fix it. But you did really well last night, so maybe…okay, I'm not sure."

Christian considers for a moment and suggests, "You think that I'm ready to be trusted even with your sad tears?"

All her scattered thoughts fall into place and Ana realizes that's exactly what she'd been thinking. Still nervous about asking too much of him, she says only, "What do you think?"

"How did you feel when I had to go for a run?"

Ana shrugs and says, "Not too bad; maybe a three. I know you solve problems better on your feet, and I understand why strong emotions make you uncomfortable. Gave me a chance to have a good cry. And I knew you'd return…actually you surprised me coming back so soon."

Christian smiles and realizes, "You didn't have a chance to dry your eyes."

Ana blushes a little and says, "Exactly."

They're quiet for a while, just silently reinforcing their love for each other, then Christian asks, "What else is making you sad?"

Genuinely moved that he's not only understood her wishes, but is immediately compliant, Ana smiles and says, "Thank you. But can we talk about it later? I want to enjoy whatever wonderful surprise you've got in store for us."

"Sure, baby. And it's mostly farmland for a while, so you might as well try for some more sleep."

Ana is almost asleep when Christian's voice drags her back to consciousness. "What is it?"

She only realizes that he's not talking to her when Lea explains, "I wasn't sure at first. But we've been followed since Thetford. Secure any drinks and hang on. We chose this car for a reason."

Utterly confused, Ana looks to Christian – whose eyes are shining with excitement at this development – and he says, "Looks like a slight detour is in order." To Lea, he more loudly commands, "Not too bumpy."

"No, sir."

Carla actually sounds afraid when she asks, "What's going on?"

Christian leans forward enough to rest a hand on her arm for a moment and say, "Just relax. You're about to find out why we need two bodyguards."

With everyone secure and prepared, Nigel suddenly throws the car into a turn, leaving the highway and hurtling along a dirt track…mud track. Under Lea's constant direction, he makes several turns and, seemingly miraculously, pops back out onto the highway again.

"Did it work?"

Glancing back at Christian, Lea grins and says, "We'll know soon enough, sir." To the wide-eyed women, she says, "Sorry about that, folks. Normal service will resume shortly."

Heart rate returning to normal, Ana asks Christian, "How can we be newsworthy here?"

Christian shrugs and says, "It's an international market nowadays. A local reporter could sell the story, with or without photos, to a US news syndicate…hell, they could do it with only a phone."

"So one of my relatives called the press?"

"It doesn't have to be that deliberate. They could have just mentioned the reunion in a public setting and the news filtered down to someone who cares enough to do a little digging. We'll always have to be careful about travel plans."

Ana is still pondering the implications of this when Lea says, "Looks like we lost them, sir."

"Good job. Who has to clean the car?"

Without taking his eyes off the road, Nigel says, "Unfortunately, that would be me, sir."

Impressed that it was so easy, Ana quietly says to Christian, "They work well together, don't they?"

Christian smiles and says, "Probably the twin thing, though I don't know if that still holds when they're not identical."

She'd noticed some resemblance, but assumed it was because the two were born in the same country, not from the same womb. "They're twins? How do you know?"

With that frustratingly bemused look, that always makes Ana feel like an idiot, he says, "You think I'd put our safety in the hands of the first team who showed up at the airport?"

Suddenly comprehending that Christian knew exactly who their minders are, even before leaving Seattle, Ana can only say, "Oh." Thankfully, he's too much of a gentleman to comment on her ignorance. After a while, she muses, "I really have got used to just relying on you, for almost everything."

His quiet smile widening into one of pure delight, Christian declares, "Good."

The familiar angry butterflies in her stomach proving that this concept still bothers her, Ana trusts him enough to quote, "A strong woman who recklessly throws away her strength, she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away."

Keeping his volume moderated for just the two of them, Christian counters, "Hardly reckless, my love; you only surrender to me, and then only when it suits both of us." When she still looks doubtful, he continues, "You've been soaring with me; what would happen if we fought the air currents?" Ana is still pondering this when he concludes, "Only by surrendering to the air can we ride it."

Somewhat appeased by this analogy, and warmed by pleasant memories, Ana smiles and says, "Sounds like a quote."

"A mangling of a line from Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison." Leaning over to kiss her cheek, he then instructs, "Rest, baby. We'll revisit this later."

With their exciting and unexpected off-road jaunt through the English countryside, Ana still hasn't managed to get sleepy enough for a nap when Carla exclaims, "I can smell the ocean."

Christian smiles at Ana and explains, "Southwold; for many years the home of author George Orwell – not born an Englishman, but he'll do for a start. The town also has the prettiest beach huts in the country and, I'm told, the best fish and chips in the world." With a modest shrug, he concludes, "And a surprise that I'll reveal over lunch."

Smiling at his enthusiasm, Ana says, "Fish and chips, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you're okay with me having fried food for breakfast and lunch?"

Apparently sincere, Christian smiles and says, "Relax, baby, we're on vacation."

They enjoy a lovely morning, the skies staying clear as if on command. After a whirlwind visit to the house that George Orwell shared with his parents, the local museum, pier, lighthouse and beach, Christian says, "Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I have an errand to run. I'm told that the Amber Shop and Museum is definitely worth a look, and there are several boutique stores." Kissing Ana's cheek, he more quietly says, "Stay with Lea. Have fun, baby."

Suddenly, ridiculously reluctant to be without him, even though she'd been enjoying cooing over everything with Carla, Ana whines, "Where are you going?"

Christian grins and says, "That surprise I mentioned. I won't be long." Leaning close enough that only she can hear, he sets her blood humming with a whispered, "And I'll miss you, too."

By the time the women have exhausted the shopping opportunities in this picturesque seaside town, they can see Nigel near the water's edge, and guess that Christian is nearby. Approaching, Ana spots her husband sitting on the remains of an old jetty. Next to him is a young boy – maybe twelve years old – who is apparently talking nonstop while Christian unravels tangled fishing line. She's staring, mesmerized by the scene, when Nigel explains, "The kid was crying as we walked past, and threw the rod away in frustration. Without a word, Mr. Grey picked it up and sat down to untangle it. After a while, the kid just started talking to him and hasn't stopped."

Ana is too moved to say anything. Carla asks, "How long has he been at it?"

Nigel glances at his watch and says, "At least twenty minutes."

Thoroughly enjoying this rare glimpse of what Christian might be like as a father, Ana cannot take her eyes off the scene, but laughs and nods her agreement when Carla warmly says, "He's not too bad once you get to know him, is he?"

Several more minutes later, Christian carefully reels in the now freed line and hands the fishing rod back to its overjoyed young owner. Unable to bear the distance between them any longer, Ana moves forward to greet Christian as he picks up what looks like a bottle in a brown paper bag and smiles as he meets her halfway. They kiss almost long enough to make up for their time apart and then he murmurs, for her ears only, "You kind of want to fuck me right now, don't you?"

Almost as quietly, Ana means every word when she says, "Right now, I'd do anything you want."

With a self-satisfied grin, Christian says "Lucky for you, all I want is for you to eat a decent lunch," and points towards a small hut with a sign out the front announcing Mrs. T's FISH & CHIPS. The line waiting to be served on this fine Sunday is depressingly long. But Christian's good mood apparently cannot be dimmed and he says, "See if you can find a table. I'll get the food."

The women swoop on a picnic table when one becomes vacant and the men soon arrive with the food. Surprised that she's so hungry, given the size of breakfast, Ana almost attacks the steaming parcel of delicately battered fish and hand-cut chunky fries. Holding one up, she says, "Chips, right?"

His mouth full of food, apparently permitted to eat while Lea watches over all of them, Nigel says, "Right. And you really must try a chip butty before you leave. I've heard that your country is sadly lacking in that particular delicacy."

With his accent, the description sounds like a baby's boot made of chips. "A chip what?"

Looking to Christian, Nigel pleads, "Sir?"

Christian shrugs and says, "If you're quick."

Nigel grins and sprints off on his mission. In the meantime, Christian splashes a small amount of what looks like a dark ale into a plastic cup for Ana and says, "Just this once, we'll have a drink."

Bree silently declines and Carla accepts a small amount. Only on tasting it does Ana know and is almost in tears at Christian's loving gesture when she remembers, "This is the beer we had with lunch the day you first took me on The Grace." To an attentive Carla, she explains, "His yacht."

Obviously pleased that she's remembered, Christian smiles and says, "Yes. Adnams brewery, where it's made, is nearby. Didn't seem much point having a tour when you're pregnant, but I thought you might like this trip down memory lane."

Almost too moved to speak, that he would remember something seemingly so trivial, and make it special, Ana manages, "Thank you."

Tapping his bottle against her cup, Christian says, "You're welcome, baby."

Nigel then returns, carrying a plastic bag that proves to contain fresh white bread and salted butter. Producing a knife, as if by magic, he says to Ana, "Now, it must always be fresh bread and quality chips like this, okay?"

Amused at his enthusiasm, and beginning to work out what a "chip butty" is, Ana smiles and says, "Got it."

Spreading a lavish amount of butter on two slices, he then holds one out to Ana on a napkin and commands, "Chip me."

With a nervous glance at Christian, seeing that he's only amused, fingertips resting on his lips as he tries to conceal his smile, Ana covers the bread with still steaming chips and says, "Done."

"Hmm, not too bad, for a first attempt. But the aim is to minimize the amount of air between each chip." Then completing the sandwich with the other slice of bread, Nigel says, "Now, mind, this is the most important part of the process. Are you paying attention, Mrs. Grey?"

Managing, just barely, to keep a straight face, Ana says, "Of course."

With a dramatic flourish, Nigel raises a hand and presses down on the sandwich, flattening the whole thing into something that looks like it should be stepped around, not eaten. Then holding the finished product out to a clearly nervous Ana, he says, "Trust me."

With a shrug, Ana reaches out for the squashed offering as she says, "Thank you."

Just before she takes it, Nigel says, "I've heard that some of your countrymen add ketchup or even mustard. But you must promise me never to use anything other than sea salt and malt vinegar on chips."

A breath away from dissolving into laughter at his solemn expression, Ana asks, "What about fries?"

Dismissively waving his free hand, Nigel says, "Those you can do with as you wish."

Accepting the sandwich, Ana vows, "I promise." It really is surprisingly good, and Ana is able to truthfully say, "Best chip butty I've ever had."

Apparently satisfied with this noncommittal answer, Nigel smiles and resumes his meal. It's Bree – no doubt familiar with the effects of such a diet on the British population – who can't stop herself from saying what everyone is thinking. "Wouldn't be a good idea to have this every day, though."

Not even bothering to empty her mouth first, Ana smiles around the carbs and deliberately echoes Christian's earlier instruction when she says, "Relax, we're on vacation."

With a grateful smile, Christian leans over to kiss Ana's cheek and declare, "Now you're getting the idea."

Where credit's due: Shellypg, for suggesting Southwold and supplying valuable information about the area. Thank you.

To my other British fans; feel free to go nuts (Private Message or email) with local info about settings for authors such as Shakespeare, Thomas Hardy, Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, William Wordsworth, Beatrix Potter, Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, A. A. Milne and (one of my earliest favorites) Agatha Christie. I know there are many others worthy of note, but our travelers are only on vacation for two weeks.

"To eat well in England you should have breakfast three times a day." – W. Somerset Maugham

"A strong woman who recklessly throws away her strength, she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away." – Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D'Urbervilles