Returning home was more difficult than I anticipated. After spending a weekend away from everything but Christian out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to distract either of us, I find the sights of Seattle almost stifling. Taylor was waiting for us when stepped off the boat and I immediately felt Christian's entire mood shift. Despite how tightly he held my hand as we walked to the SUV and continues to hold it as we drive to Kate and Elliot's, I can't help but feel he's shutting me out, just a little bit. I felt the same after our honeymoon: after weeks of us in our own private bubble, we were yanked suddenly and thoroughly back into a harsh reality. Then it had involved very real threats, fires at GEH, and car chases; now it involves having to face the mess Christian caused when he began his affair with Lucy. That thought puts a bitter taste in my mouth for the first time in weeks. We wouldn't be in this situation if he had just kept it in his pants...

Stop it! My subconscious has managed to fight her way out of being tied and gagged for the weekend has apparently been building up her snarkiness just for this moment. You told him you forgave him for the affair. You agreed to remarry him. You slept with him over and over again this weekend. You don't get to go back on all that just because you have to go home.

Much as I hate to admit it, the bitch is right. Yes, I'm melancholy about the end of our time away, but we can only go up from here, right?

Sighing heavily, my head drops to my shoulder and I feel rather than see Christian turning towards me. He knows me well enough to know what's going on in my head; it's the same way I know what's going on in his. He wants to try reassuring me that everything will be all right, even though he's uncertain himself. But he can't right now just as I can't even begin reassuring him.

And it sure as hell doesn't help matters that he has to face Kate for the first time since the disastrous dinner at Grace and Carrick's house. Whether she was working late as Elliot said when they'd dropped off Teddy or if she was just avoiding being in the same place as Christian, I know they won't be able to avoid one another forever. When we pull into the driveway, I immediately spot Kate's BMW parked beside Elliot's truck and my desire to ask Taylor to fetch my son so we don't have to face whatever drama Kate might start is nearly overwhelming. Of course I don't ask Taylor to do this and before I know it, Elliot is opening the front door of the house happily, pulling me into a hug while Christian glares at him, and my mood improves immediately at the sound of my son's excited squeal. I force Elliot to release me so I can intercept Teddy as he crashes into my arms with a huge hug. It's only now I realize I haven't spent much time this weekend letting my mind linger on thoughts of my son, the one constant in my life for four years now.

"Oh, I've missed you, baby boy," I whisper in his hair, kissing his face all over. "Did you have a good weekend?"

Immediately Teddy launches into his weekend activities which apparently include a camp out in the backyard that Elliot set up for the kids complete with tent, campfire, and "scary" bedtime stories. I raise an eyebrow at Elliot at this, silently promising death if my son suffers from nightmares from whatever stories he'd been told. Elliot just grins carelessly. Teddy finally notices his father, who's been oddly silent and still since Teddy entered the room and demands a hug. I've never stopped being incredibly proud of the father Christian has become. The love he has for his son is unshakable and only grows more as the days go on. I'm trying not to think too far ahead to what might happen after the trial is behind us and we go through with the remarrying, whatever that might consist of, but I can't help but wonder if there might be more children in our future. A sibling for Teddy. A daughter perhaps. I can already imagine a little girl with my brown hair wrapping her father around her little finger with nothing more than a smile. It's pretty easy to imagine when Ava runs into the room with Kate trailing behind her and demands hugs from her Uncle Christian. He doesn't hesitate to give her exactly what she wants, leaving Kate and me trying to stifle our amusement over what I believe are similar thoughts. For a man who was terrified of becoming a father at all, I think he was more frightened of being the father of a little girl. Boys he can identify with, mostly; girls, though... well, his track record with girls sort of speaks for itself even though I know he'd be brilliant at it, if not horribly overprotective.

When I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, I see Kate's smile freeze on her face before it slips away completely, leaving her scowling. Christian notices the expression and glances at me, his own expression hardening. At first, my instinct is to turn around and find out what they're staring at then I realize they're looking at my hand. My left hand, to be precise, where the engagement ring Christian gave me and I understand suddenly.

Fuck.

"What is that?" Kate asks coldly.

"A ring," Christian flings back.

"Okay," Elliot says cheerfully, clapping his hands together as he looks between his wife and brother. "Kids, let's go play outside, shall we?"

The temperature seems to drop several degrees as Elliot leaves with the kids, throwing a glance at Kate that seems to be full of some warning. Once we hear the backdoor close, Kate immediately lays in. "So, what? He's buying you off now?"

"What?" Christian and I both shout, mine from disbelief, his from anger.

"I thought you were going in eyes wide open, Ana!" Kate says harshly. "Now you're letting him buy you expensive presents to keep you on his arm! I thought you were better than that!"

My mouth drops open at her insinuation. Christian, however, is livid. "How fucking dare you talk about her like that," he growls, towering over Kate. Luckily she's not as immune to Christian's intimidating nature. "Like she would ever allow me to buy her off," he spits the words like something disgusting. "Believe whatever you want, Kate. I've tried to keep my silence, letting you rip me apart piece by fucking piece from the moment we met, but I'm done. I'm not letting anyone speak to my wife like that."

"Oh, that's okay for you to say," Kate snarls. "Fucking anything that sashays its tight ass past you. You're going to hurt her again, Grey, and next time, I hope she takes you for every last fucking thing you've got."

"ENOUGH!" I shout, having heard more than enough. I place myself between them as Christian takes a step towards Kate. "Both of you, just fucking stop! I am so sick of you two being at each other's throats every time you're in the same goddamn room together!" I turn towards Kate. "I don't have to explain a thing to you. I've tried and obviously my words don't mean shit to you. And I never wanted to choose between my husband and my best friend, but I'm certainly not going to stand around and let you hurt him. So fuck it, Kate. I'm done trying to convince you of anything. The day we had lunch, I told you that you can either stand by me and support me in my decision to be with Christian, or leave us alone. I thought you chose our friendship; apparently I was wrong."

Without a word of explanation, I walk to the backyard to retrieve Teddy, knowing Elliot wants to question me on what's going on, but it seems the expression on my face is keeping him silent. Teddy in my arms, I return to where I left Kate and Christian and find them still in the same spots, glaring in opposite directions. "Come on, Christian," I say quietly. "I'd like to go home now."

I see Kate shift out of the corner of my eyes, but don't bother looking at her as I lead the way outside.

"Ana?"

We're nearly home when Christian tries engaging me in conversation.

"Yes?" I respond, my voice thick with unshed tears.

"Are you okay?"

Shaking my head, I turn to look outside. Unless I am very much mistaken, I've just lost my best friend. At the time, it seemed like a logical decision—she'll never stop doubting my husband's motives when it comes to me and I'm certainly not going to let her keep doing it—but logic doesn't make it hurt any less. I can't say I didn't see this coming years ago. The two of them haven't ever kept their animosity a secret, but for a while, I thought they'd managed to find some common ground, namely me. Eight months I was away and when I finally come home to try to get my life back on track, Kate does nothing but question my every decision and accuse Christian of buying my love and devotion.

Well, fuck her. I've got enough on my plate right now without adding Placate Katherine to it. I thought I made my feelings for Christian more than plain to her. I thought we reached an understanding.

Dinner is quiet. Christian is watching me with concern, but I can't meet his eyes for more than a flash of a second. When it's finally time for Teddy's bedtime, we go through the routine mechanically and I know my husband is just waiting for the chance to get me alone. I mutter something about going to shower, leaving him to stare at me with hurt and confusion. I hesitate before going into the bathroom I've been using since my return home, making my decision within seconds. Turning away, I walk down the hall towards the bedroom I've only visited once in all these weeks, my heart racing as I open the door.

The moon is out, shining in from the large bay window across from our bed and I've never seen anything more inviting and comforting. With a small smile, I make my way to the adjoining bathroom, the location of hundreds of beautiful memories made by Christian and myself. This is home. This is where I belong. Finishing up my shower, step out, wrapping a towel around myself as I reenter the bedroom. I stop suddenly when I find Christian sitting on the bed, facing away from me, head in his hands. I go to sit beside him. He looks up with a smile of his own.

"I heard the shower running," he explains quietly. "But you weren't where I expected you to be and it took me a couple minutes to realize where you'd gone... I'd hoped you'd find your way back here soon."

Smiling at his sweetness and sentimentality, I know what I want and after today, I'm damn well going to get it. I stand suddenly, startling Christian, and make sure his gaze is locked on mine. Slowly, I let the towel drop from my body. His eyes widen when he realizes what's going on and he reaches out to pull me to stand between his legs, just like Friday night. Lightly, his hands and fingers trace my curves while he kisses my belly, moving his mouth lower. My own hands grip his shoulders to keep me steady as his tongue darts out to tease me between my thighs. In response to my moan, I feel him chuckle against me and I hate the fact that he gets such amusement from torturing me like this.

Wait. Who am I kidding? I love it when he does this to me. I want him to do this to me for the rest of my life. As long as at some point he bestows some sort of relief upon me...

I manage to pull away from him without losing my balance. He looks up sharply, confused at my move. With the slightest of smirks, I reach out and push him back on his bed, then make quick work of his pants and boxers. Not quite full staff, but I can fix that... Knowing he's watching my every move, pushed himself up on his elbows to do so, I drop to my knees between his, leaning forward to take him in my mouth. The sound he makes sends a thrill to my very soul—so raw, so primitive, so Christian. Using everything at my disposal—lips, tongue, teeth, fingers—I bring him to the brink of ecstasy over and over, always stopping short of that one moment I know he's becoming desperate for. I feel his hands grasping for me, so I slide my hands up his thighs, his belly, his chest, gripping his arms as I take him deeper, feeling him in the back of my throat.

"Fuck, Ana," he gasps, bucking his hips. "Baby, I want to be inside you. Please."

All of a sudden, I'm overwhelmed with pride for myself. I can't remember the last time I made Christian Grey beg for sex—though he's done it a few times this weekend. I like this, knowing I have this power over him, and that he's not the only one who can turn somebody into putty in their hands. Of course, it would be horrible of me not to give into his pleas; after all, I want to encourage this sort of behavior. I pull away from him with a pop and he groans as I stand, still holding on to his arms as I crawl over him. I'm not sure when it happened, but Christian lost his shirt at some point. I find this doesn't bother me in the slightest at the sight of his feral gaze and the feel of his hands sliding up my thighs to my hips as he helps guide me over him.

Christian cries out and my head falls back as I slide onto him, sheathing him completely inside me. Neither of us moves for a minute; we just stare at each other in mutual longing and desire, not wanting to break this connection. I think I could stay here forever on top of him, looking down at him, and never have another care in the world. Everything falls away when we're together—there's no outside drama or stress or anything. How we could have possibly let this slip away in the first place is beyond me, but I'll never let it happen again.

With that thought firmly planted in my mind, I lean forward, taking Christian's hands and lifting them above his head as I begin to move. I push myself off him, contracting my muscles against him until the very tip of him is at my entrance, then slide down again. Repeating my movements, I choose the rhythm with which we meet, grinding my hips into his. I know he's desperate to touch me, but I keep his hands pinned above his head without a clue as to why I need this control over him right now. He can easily overpower me, flip me, fuck me into oblivion, but apparently he understands what I don't and allows me to take him at my pace, no matter how badly he wants otherwise. Lowering my head, I kiss him deeply, finding more confidence in the way his tongue desperately seeks mine. When I think I can't take anymore, I push myself upright again, releasing his hands, which immediately fly to my hips. He gives me a pleading look and I nod breathlessly. He smirks very briefly before growling. The grasp he has on my hips increases as he pulls me off him effortlessly, then slams me back down onto him, his hips snapping up to meet mine. He moves my hips in circles, one hand moving up to tease my breast, kneading it, squeezing my nipple before moving onto the other.

My muscles are tightening and despite wanting to draw this out for as long as possible—our first union in our bed since I've been home—I don't think I can last much longer. "Christian," I breathe.

"I know, baby," he growls. "Let it go. Give it to me."

With that, he thrusts up, pulling me down into him a few more times until my eyes squeeze shut and I explode, falling against him when all my strength leaves with my climax. His arms wrap around me, his knees pull up, and he continues moving wildly, grunting, growling until his own muscles tighten and his own release overtakes him. We lie together in a boneless heap, trying to steady our erratic breathing. At some point, I vaguely realize Christian has somehow moved us so we're resting on the pillows. He's still got his arms wrapped around me, but I can see in the moonlight that he's smiling at me.

"Well, that was a very pleasant surprise," he tells me, sounding very well satisfied.

I giggle, running my fingers through his thoroughly just fucked hair. "Pleasant isn't exactly what I was going for," I try to grumble. It's difficult to be properly annoyed at such a beautiful man during moments like these.

"No?" he says with a raised eyebrow. "Would you prefer marvelous? Or perhaps extraordinary. There's also breathtaking, stupendous, awe-inspiring, heart-stopping, magnificent, and wondrous." I'm blushing and he's beaming at my reaction as he leans in to push hair out of my eyes, and lift my chin so I'll meet his gaze. "All of which, incidentally, describe you."

And with that, I'm pressed against the mattress and he's kissing for all he's worth, then he's inside me again, moving slowly, taking his time to explore every inch of me.

Hours later, breathless and in each other's arms again, I'm slipping off to sleep and I know Ana's about to as well, but we still need to talk before we rest.

"Baby?" I whisper against her forehead.

"Hmm?"

I shift so I can look at her. "Are you okay? After what happened with Kate, I mean..."

I hear her sigh and I know the tension she managed to let go since she got out of the shower is slowly returning. "I'm fine," she says in a small voice. "Or I will be. I meant what I said to her, Christian. The last thing I need is yet another person trying to interfere with everything we have and everything we're trying to have. Yes, I want her in my life, but not if she's going to speak to you the way she does."

"You know it was never my intention to pit you against your best friend, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she responds. "And I understand why she's feeling so protective of me, but she's being a hell of a hypocrite saying the things she's said about me taking you back." I tense, knowing where she's going and wanting to stop her, though I know she needs to get this out. "She barely hesitated to take Elliot back and what he did was worse than this."

Sighing heavily, I close my eyes. The memory of hearing about my idiot brother's behavior has popped up in my mind a million times in the last year, much as I've tried to block it out. Not only did Elliot cheat on his wife, but there was a rumor going around that he actually got his girlfriend pregnant. In the end it turned out she'd been lying, but still; the damage had been done. We all thought Kate was going to take him for everything he had—just as she told Ana she should do to me—but for whatever reason, she and Elliot managed to work things out and they've never been happier. So Ana is right: Kate's being a hypocrite right now. That doesn't mean I want to compare our relationship to that of my brother's and his wife's.

"It doesn't matter what Elliot did," I tell her. "It doesn't matter that Kate forgave him. What does matter, and the only thing that should matter, is what happens between you and me. I knew people would try to influence your decision to take me back. Hell, I tried to influence your decision over and over again. But in the end, the decision was yours, Anastasia. Nobody else's. And I will never be able to explain how incredible it feels that your decision worked out in my favor." I sigh heavily. "Now having said that, Kate is your friend. She's missed you just like the rest of them. I'm not going to sugarcoat it by saying she wasn't angry and hurt that you left the way you did, but as we all know, all of that should have been directed to me, and since everyone learned what I did, it has been. She shouldn't take out her anger and whatever else on you, though—"

"So she should only take it out on you?" she challenges. "Christian, I'm going to let her tear you apart every time she sees you. You've got enough doubt without her adding in her two cents—and don't try to tell me you don't doubt yourself when it comes to us. I know you better than that. I appreciate you're trying to protect me from her, but I'm going to do the same for you. Nobody is going to get away with that. Not Kate. Not Elena. Not Lucy. Understood?"

I can only blink at the fierceness in her tone. I almost want to question her lumping Kate in with those other two, but don't want to anger her any further. So like any smart husband, I do what I should. "Of course," I agree immediately. She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously as though she knows what I'm doing and why, but she doesn't question me further on it. Eventually we lie down again and fall asleep together in our bed, in our bedroom, where we should have been all along. As much as I'm dreading having to leave her for work in the morning, I love waking up with her here: the morning light that will enter through the window, making her skin glow beautifully allowing me to very clearly see the sweet, tired smile she'll bestow upon me as she wakes up.

To my annoyance, Seattle's rain season thwarts my morning plans of seeing the sun playing off Ana's skin as she wakes up. It's gray and dreary and pouring rain. I suppose it fits my mood. The last thing I want to do after the most amazing weekend I've had in years is go deal with acquisitions and mergers. All I have to look forward to is coming home tonight and spending every free moment with my wife and son. Regardless of the poor weather, Ana slips into the shower with me before I leave and improves my mood immediately. Taylor is looking at me oddly and I realize I'm actually whistling as we reach the SUV. I grin widely, which only seems to increase is uneasiness with my behavior and chuckle to myself as I get into the passenger seat.

But as we pull out of the driveway, I feel my good mood slipping away. Traffic is heavy. I'm receiving call after call from Ros and Andrea and a number of others. My email inbox is ridiculous and I can already feel the beginnings of a migraine.

And it doesn't help matters when I step out of my elevator to my office I see my father sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other and holding his briefcase in his lap. To an outsider, his expression is easy and friendly; to me, he's stressed out, upset, and slightly pissed off. He's chatting with Olivia about something and making her giggle like some teenager. It's disgusting. This is my father for fuck's sake. She's seen him a million times. Usually accompanied by my mother... I clear my throat and Olivia's eyes widen as her complexion pales. She mutters some pathetic nonsense before scurrying off to get a coffee or something. My father stands and I suddenly want to go back home and lock myself in my bedroom with my wife.

"Dad," I say warily. "This is a surprise."

His lips press together in a thin line that tells me more than I need to know right now. "We need to talk."

Yeah, I figured that much... With a sigh, I nod and lead him into my office, closing the door as he enters. Running a hand through my hair, I gesture for him to take a seat on the couch and I sit beside him. "What's on your mind?" For one brief moment, I fear my mother told him about what we discussed during our lunch not too long ago. If that's the case, I think I'll be breaking into my liquor cabinet very shortly despite the very early hour; there's no way I can have that sort of conversation with him without the comfort of a bottle of whiskey.

When he speaks, though, he sets my mind at ease. Briefly. "I've received an update of what to expect at the trial in a few weeks," he says grimly. Fuck. The trial. And I'm now very firmly back on Earth after spending two heavenly days with my wife. "I thought you would want all the information you can get before you go out there."

"You're right," I say resignedly. "What do you know?"

Carrick reaches into his briefcase to retrieve a stack of emails and other paperwork. "Firstly, and you didn't hear this from me since I had to pull in several favors to get it, Lucy Hastings is planning on pleading insanity at the time of the kidnapping. I don't know the details of her plea, but from what I understand, she's got a team of doctors lined up to give testimony."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" I growl, fisting my hands in my hair to avoid punching something.

"I wish I was," says my dad, shaking his head, not at all phased by my anger. "It won't be difficult to counter, I don't think. The laws in England are similar to ours, though in some ways seem stricter with regard to punishment. Kidnapping isn't something they take lightly and since she admitted to her crime, she hasn't really got a leg to stand on. That's not to say she won't use this to her fullest advantage by playing the victim mistress who was promised the world by her lover only to be left in the dust. And Christian, I don't care if it's the truth or not!" He interrupts my argument. "If this is how you're reacting now, I can't imagine how it'll be when you're sitting in that courtroom listening to whatever bullshit she comes out with. You need to get your emotions under control, Christian. The last thing Anastasia needs is for you to be arrested for causing a scene in the middle of the trial."

I hate it when he's right, but goddamn it, he's right. "So we'll get our own experts in there to evaluate," I respond once I've calmed down. "I'm sure John Flynn would love the opportunity to fly home for a week or so."

Carrick cracks a small grin. "Not a bad idea," he concedes. "Now for the other bit of news..."

I brace myself.

"Again, this needs to remain quiet, since we're not supposed to be privy to this sort of information. I was able to get access to it because of the restraining order proceedings against Elena Lincoln, but I'm stretching my power of poking around without being detected. I wouldn't do this for anybody but one of my children." He hands me a folder and I open it reluctantly, feeling at once like it's Christmas and like I want to beat the shit out of somebody.

"I'll bury both of them," I growl, flipping through the paperwork.

"Well, you can let Hastings bury herself," Carrick tells me. "Elena is another story altogether. It never ceases to amaze me the influence she has to get things done. The paper trail only goes so far, I'm afraid, and once that ends, it's speculation, which won't actually get us anywhere. However, I'm still confident we'll get all the information we need to get this shit taken care of before it goes any further. What I need you to do, Christian, is to not do anything rash. If you try jumping the gun on this, you're going to destroy our efforts. You're a businessman, Christian, you know what can happen if you try to move in on a deal too soon. Treat this like a business dealing if you need to. We'll get this taken care of."

Treat it like a business deal. Easy for him to say. It's not his livelihood, marriage, and reputation on the line. Though honestly, only one of the three matter to me at this point and it's not the first or third. "Will this be enough to take care of Elena?" I ask, surprised at my calm tone.

"I don't know," my dad says honestly. "But she's been making questionable decisions for decades," he looks pointedly at me and I actually squirm under his gaze like a teenager getting a lecture from his father, "and her reputation around here is pretty much shot. This might be the last straw as far as her ever getting another business or business partner that wants to deal with her bullshit. And if we can somehow prove she only took an interest in that London publishing house after Anastasia began working there, so much the better for us."

"How do we prove that, though?" I hate that slight desperate edge my voice is taking, because I know Carrick will pick up on it in an instant. "My understanding is she paid cash for her investment and cash isn't something easily traced."

"Bank records, son." Carrick is grinning at me. Actually fucking grinning. I'm getting the feeling he's enjoying having something over on Elena Lincoln. "You told us you gave her three million dollars. Once that deposit was made into her bank account, we can trace every little thing she did. It's tenuous at best, but for our needs, it works."

I'm still skeptical. Proving intention of something like an investment isn't easy. Anybody can say they intended to make that sort of move all along and for the most part, they can't be questioned too much about it. In Elena's case, knowing thy enemy is where we might find success; as my dad said, she's been making questionable business dealings for decades, and we have proof in front of us about at least one of them. So perhaps it won't matter that her decision to invest with Canton Publishing didn't actually pop up until Ana worked there.

By the time my father leaves to return to his own work, my mood is thoroughly shot and it's not even ten in the morning. I want to just go home, but I've been neglecting my work lately to spend more time with my wife and son, and I really need to get my head on straight again. As I settle into my work, I'm feeling oddly confident that this whole thing will actually work out to my benefit and the benefit of my family. I don't know how much light is at the end of the tunnel, but at this point it doesn't matter; I have Ana and Teddy. They are my life. They are my reason for being. And I will do everything within my power to ensure nothing ever hurts either of them again.

And that nothing includes me.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and commented. There are about six chapters to go, and I should have them up this week!