A/N: sorry for the slight delay in getting this uploaded. Again I wanted to do it justice and there's only one or two more chapters before I finally bring this story to an end! I know I keep saying that, but it just never seems that I'm quite there yet.

Anyway, I've made the first half of this chapter rather lighthearted (and hopefully funny!) to break some of the tension that's been rife of late. Please do review as I'd love to know you're all still with me!

Their frantic and heated encounter atop the billiard table had thrown Georg entirely off balance, leaving him feeling unexpectedly ill at ease. He'd assumed that by finally giving in to his body's demands and taking his wife against the plush green velvet - perhaps more roughly than he should have - he would've satiated his primal urges and rid himself of his wayward thoughts. How wrong he'd been.

Much to his wicked delight and inward shame, he found himself continuously haunted by the intoxicating memory - the crack of billiard balls scattering everywhere as Maria had laid back and opened herself to him, the uninhibited moans that had escaped from her mouth in tandem with the relentless snap of his hips, the intense euphoria that had thundered through his body when he'd pulled a final contraction from her - it was all vividly fresh in his mind as though she were still helplessly pinned beneath him, delighting in his frantic desperation.

"Father.." Brigitta's voice from somewhere in the vicinity was barely enough to pull him back into the room.

"Hmm?"

"Will you pass the sugar?"

He did so, being careful to avoid knocking over any glasses of orange juice in the process, though his eyes never left the newspaper that was gripped in his hand. It really was quite a ridiculous situation - he'd been staring at the letters on the page for the better part of half an hour without having read so much as a single word. The truth was, he didn't trust himself to meet the eyes of anyone else around the breakfast table for fear that they would somehow be able to guess, when looking upon his face, the sordid nature of his thoughts.

He was becoming increasingly more annoyed with himself for allowing his body to respond so vigorously to Maria's presence. What was it about her that reduced him to such madness? Whenever they found themselves in the throes of passion, barely a minute would pass after he'd come undone and he'd want her all over again. And that's exactly what had happened in the billiard room the previous night, for he hadn't been able to stop himself from taking her a second time - bent over the mantelpiece of all places! It was hardly the behaviour of a gentleman. Or a lady for that matter.. But she had met every one of his advances with arduous delight and so he had long since given up trying to protect her from his passions.

The truth was, it unsettled him how desperately he seemed to need her when he felt troubled by loss or grief or anguish - he loved her so fiercely that she seemed to be his only balm when he found himself brooding over such unpleasant things. He had to admit he'd been shocked when he'd first begun seeking an outlet for his sorrows in the form of sexual release - it hadn't been that way with any woman before Maria, least of all with Agathe. But he'd soon learnt that Maria offered him both a soul to confide in and a body to worship, in any way that he so desired. And it was this unashamed acceptance of his needs, her wholehearted and unabashed willingness to please him, the evident delight she took in being his only source of ecstasy - that had him so thoroughly rattled.

He took another shuddering breath and for once in his life, he was rather grateful for the ruckus his children were making around the breakfast table, for it served to remind him that he was hardly in an appropriate place to be thinking such wicked things.

"Kurt don't hog the hot chocolate," came Louisa's scolding voice from somewhere beyond his newspaper, "you know there isn't much left!"

"You don't even like hot chocolate!" Kurt retorted with conviction, taking an ungentlemanly slurp of his drink for emphasis.

"Yes I do, who doesn't like hot chocolate?!"

"Children!" came Maria's sweet voice, "there's plenty to go around for now. Just consider yourselves lucky there was some left in the cupboards when we got here, despite the rations! And Kurt.." she admonished, "your sister is right, you really must learn to share."

She must've brazenly extracted the mug from Kurt's hands then and taken her very own sip, for there was an indignant cry of protest from his son, a bark of laughter from Louisa, followed by - God help him - a delectable little moan of pleasure from his wife.

Was she trying to undo him?! He attempted to mask a low groan, the heady memory of her naked body arching as she came apart beneath him flashing wildly in his mind's eye. Sinking lower in his chair behind his newspaper shield, he tried to shake the erotic image but it was no use - he could feel his blood turning hot with the first flames of desire.

He tugged at his collar helplessly as his face grew warm, though no one else around the table seemed to take notice. Years of military training, two decades of discipline and an array of risqué experiences in his youth - and yet here he was reduced to incoherency by the entirely innocent sound of his wife's satisfaction. He was no better than an errant schoolboy!

Doing his level best to muster some form of composure, he willed himself to re-focus on the page in front of him, to concentrate on the English print while - thank god - steady conversation resumed around the table. Surely he was capable of reining in his thoughts, of exercising some of that legendary control he had once been famous for. He was certainly not so ravenous with unrelenting desire that he couldn't behave like a fully functioning human being, for God's sake.

Pull yourself together man! He chastised himself - and with a final attempt at restraint, he managed to exorcise the vivid image of his gasping wife from his mind. There, he thought smugly, taking an absentminded sip of his coffee and revelling in his newfound determination, that wasn't so difficult now was-

"So!" Max bellowed jovially, snapping Georg out of his internal pep talk, "Am I right in thinking you got lucky last night Maria?"

Georg's eyes blew wide and coffee sprayed in every direction as he began to choke violently, thumping uncouthly on his own chest with one hand and wrestling helplessly with the newspaper clutched in other. The pages rustled incessantly against his abrupt flailing and he was painfully aware that all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. All eyes, except Maria's.

"I.. I beg your pardon?!" the woman in question squeaked, her mortified gaze fixed on the impresario as though hoping she'd somehow misheard him. Watching the scene unfold before him in abject horror, Georg groped blindly for a glass of water and took a few desperate gulps to cool his flaming cheeks.

"Billiards.." Max retorted innocently through a mouthful of toast, "did you win? I went to inspect Thomas's little model boat this morning and noticed the balls on the table were in disarray... I take it Georg coaxed you into a wager last night?"

Georg chanced a glance at Maria and was dismayed to find that she wasn't faring much better than he was. The blood had drained from her face and she was repeatedly opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water as all eyes swivelled onto her. She looked around the room desperately, as though looking for someone to jump to her aid, and it seemed as though several excruciating hours had passed before she finally found her voice.

"Errrr yes!" She breezed a little too enthusiastically, wringing her napkin in her hands so vigorously that Georg thought she might rip it clean in half, "Yes, he challenged me to a game but alas I lost.."

"Ah I thought so.. " Max chuckled, returning to his plateful of food with gusto, "well, don't take it to heart.." he took another lazy bite of his toast and waved the slice in the air emphatically as he swallowed, "Georg is, after all, very competitive.. and exceptionally skilled with his cue.."

Aghast, Georg opened his mouth to retort, but not a single word came to mind.

"It's true," Margaret piped in, entirely oblivious as she reached for her tea cup, "Agathe used to say how good you were, Georg."

It was Maria's turn to choke on her drink then, and she turned a shocking shade of puce as a confused Friedrich began pounding on her back in an attempt to ease her discomfort.

"Indeed," Max drawled, his eyes flashing wickedly as Georg felt himself break out into a cold sweat, "I imagine our Captain showed Maria a thing or two about positioning.."

Oh God. Georg took another desperate gulp of water, rendered entirely speechless by the unwelcome images creeping back to the forefront of his mind.

"And grip.." the impresario added mercilessly.

Another gulp.

"And ball manipulation.."

"Children!" Georg cried, slamming his glass down and jumping to his feet in a desperate attempt to change the subject - only to rapidly grab the newspaper up from the table and place it strategically in front of his lap.

"How would you like to go for a picnic in the woods with your mother and I this afternoon?"

He flashed his layabout lodger a look of pure fire and Max responded with a positively gleeful smirk. His impish face was etched with mischief in light of his friend's evident discomfort, but it was with a sigh of relief that Georg found himself inadvertently saved by the sudden chorus of excited cries from his unsuspecting children.

And so a picnic in the woods appeared to be all arranged, much to Georg's chagrin. Whether he could trust himself to resist pulling his wife behind a tree and taking her up against the bark however, was another matter entirely.

The air was crisp and fresh, a light breeze rustling through the trees around them as the leaves danced with stunning hues of green, orange, yellow, red and brown. The sun shone high in the sky and the children's laughter could be heard echoing through the clouds as though the sound was being carried by the wings of the birds that flew overhead. It was serene, peaceful, almost idyllic - and for just one undisturbed afternoon, Maria allowed herself to fall under the welcoming illusion that everything was right with the world.

It was true that they had suffered greatly as a family, and the Von Trapps had been confronted with their very own personal demons long before Maria had ever catapulted into their home. And just when life had begun to take one of its most wonderful and unexpected turns, just when she and her stoic Captain had found themselves falling in love - Zeller had struck, instigating a series of events that would test the limits of their strength for months to come.

Almost from the minute she'd set foot in the ballroom on the night of the grand and glorious party back in Aigen, she and Georg had been confronted with difficulties and heartaches the likes of which she could never have possibly imagined. Their love had been compromised, they'd lost their home, their country, their livelihood - they'd witnessed unspeakable horrors, they'd starved, they'd said goodbye to friends and loved ones.. And while the horrors they'd faced along their tumultuous journey had almost been their undoing, each time they had come out stronger, proving time and time again that theirs was a love that knew no bounds. It was a precious gift, she realised, to know her captain in a way that no one else ever would - to know that under his formal exterior was a man who harboured fierce and raw emotion, emotion that he often couldn't bear to confront without her by his side - as his bulwark, as his lifeblood, as his very reason for being. It often floored her still, to understand the immense capacity with which this man of hers could love. It was that very same capacity that had led him to despair in the loss of his first wife, the very same capacity that had brought him back to his children, the very same capacity that had led him to her.

Her heart swelled as she watched him from her position on the picnic blanket where Johannes kicked and flailed happily, while his father gave chase to the youngest children through the maze of branches and leaves as they squealed with delight. She caught his eye mid-run and he came to an eventual halt, his long legs and broad shoulders the telltale sign of his strength - and he gave her a breathtaking smile before ambling over to join her. He sank onto his haunches then, his eyes sparkling and his hair ruffling against the wind, the dimples she so loved denting his cheeks as though he hadn't a care in the world.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him without the darkness churning in his eyes. And given that Robert's absence was still very much fresh in everybody's minds, Georg's unexpected contentment was more than Maria could've hoped for. Clearly, being surrounded by the devotion and joyful innocence of his children had done him the world of good, even if it was only for one afternoon.

Oblivious to her heartfelt thoughts, Georg ran a gentle thumb over his son's hair and met Maria's eye again, his boyish grin setting her heart alight as much now as it had done in their tree back in Austria. How far away there home seemed now, she thought, though it wouldn't be long until they would have to find a new home for themselves.

"I think he's getting impatient that he can't yet join in," Georg chuckled, his gaze settling back on his youngest son.

"Soon he'll be able to outrun you, old man," she teased, and he had the good grace to look offended before his crooked grin gave him away. Settling into a sitting position next to her on the blanket, he took her hand, pressing it to his lips as they watched the children charge through the trees as though nothing could possibly break their spirits. It was incredibly moving to know that, despite the turmoil they'd each endured, they still had the ability to simply enjoy the essence of childhood and all its innocent wander.

It was a beautiful sight, observing them in their element, laughing and playing and caring for one another as though loss was merely an inconvenient obstacle that they would tackle together, one step at a time. They looked every bit as joyful as they had done during her very first night at the villa, when they'd danced away their fears of thunder and lightning in the bedroom of their wayward governess. And Maria knew, in her heart of hearts, that as long as these ten siblings had each other to lean on, they would be able to withstand any storm.

"Just look at them," Georg whispered in adoration, his face etched with melancholy but proud all the same, "our brood. Three sets of parents, two different languages, three different birth places - but every single one of them ours. Our babies."

His words stirred her so deeply, filled her with such unexpected adoration for the man in front of her, that she felt entirely robbed of oxygen.

"Kiss me," she blurted, without thinking.

He whirled round to face her then, his surprise evident, "Maria, I hardly think-"

"Please.."

He was a fool to think he could possibly resist. The truth was, he'd longed to kiss her all day but he knew that once he started, it wouldn't be the kind of kiss that witnesses should be privy to. He looked around wearily to ensure his children were too engrossed in their game to notice, before he cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to her own, running his tongue along the seam of her supple mouth.

He had intended to keep his ministrations rather chaste but the effect of her gentle whimper was instant and alarming, the flicker of desire that had licked at his insides suddenly roaring to life as she opened her mouth to him. It was immediately urgent and frantic and dangerous but he could hardly bring himself to care amidst the sensation of blood roaring in his ears. She kissed him back with equal fever, leaving him burning for more of her touch. But it was with a groan of reluctance that he eventually broke their embrace, all too aware of his body's aching reaction to her eagerness.

"Will that satisfy you, love?" He breathed, his voice thick with desire and his jaw set heavily in frustration. Much to Maria's surprise, the darkened flames had returned to his eyes - a heady mixture of adoration, pain and lust burning away in his irises - and instinctively she knew he needed to lose himself in her body again.

The billiard table encounter had positively redefined what it meant for him to use her body - he'd entirely lost control in those moments when time had fallen away and he'd pinned her with alarming strength, driving relentlessly into her warmth as his eyes had bore into her own with a fierce lust and possession that had set her alight. And she'd found that she'd delighted in it, unashamed and fearless, encouraging his intensity until he'd come entirely undone in the depths of her body.

They had scarcely touched each other in the two months leading up to their frenzied reunion and the lack of intimacy had clearly taken its toll on Georg, more so than he allowed himself to admit. It must've been incredibly frustrating for him, she knew - to be unable to find solace in her body when he craved it most. And now that he'd finally been able to unleash some of his turmoil through such a desperate and ragged encounter, she could tell, from the way his eyes churned with love and desire, that he needed it all over again.

"It's not nearly enough," she rasped, the sound striking an arrow straight to his heart, "I need you just as badly as you need me, you know.."

She watched as his eyes fluttered closed in lustful frustration, though she knew deep down this was simply his way of allowing himself to be truly vulnerable in her arms.

"Soon," he whispered pressing a kiss to her forehead, the promise leaving her breathless. But the flames were abruptly extinguished by the sudden reappearance of several of squawking children.

Georg gave a weary chuckle and a bashful shake of his head as he reluctantly put some distance between them, "all ours.." he murmured wistfully, gazing upon their brood once again.

Maria grinned despite herself, and they fell into a comfortable silence, each lost to their own thoughts as they watched the children in all their mischief.

After a time, she broke the quiet with a solemn sigh, "you know, despite everything.. I think I'll miss this place," she breathed sadly, "after all, it's where I bore our first child. It's where I met Thomas and Lucy. Where I learned more about Agathe. Where Margaret and-" she gave pause before forging bravely onwards, "-and Robert welcomed me into their home."

Georg said nothing, his eyes downcast and his face a stony mask.

"But it's time isn't it," she whispered, knowing the answer to her own question before she'd even uttered it.

She watched as he nodded, his face eventually breaking with unspoken anguish, though his voice was surprisingly steady when he finally spoke, the words coming out barely above a whisper, "yes. It's time."

And she knew almost instantly, without the need for explanation, that her husband's words rang true. His affairs were finally in order and there was nothing left for them in England anymore, save for painful memories and a dangerous uncertainty. It was time to claim their lives back, time to build a new future of their own making, time to live in peace and contentment, free from the heartache of war.

Wordlessly, with his face set in brave determination, Georg reached for one of the knives they'd brought with them on the picnic, and bent towards the bark of the tree that lay behind them, shading Johannes from the heat of the afternoon sun. She knew by now what he was about to do - that he wanted to leave their mark in a country that had so deeply left its mark on them. But when he finally moved aside to reveal their familiar emblem engraved in the bark, she was taken aback and deeply moved to discover that another marking of a similar kind lay boldly beside it - the intricate carving bringing tears to her eyes as it seemed to etch itself into the deepest recesses of her heart.

RW + MW.