Chapter 8: Goodbye Portland
AKA: The one in which Christian meets Mr Steele at graduation

When I walk into a room full of people,

I always look for you first.

Thursday morning was not a repeat of the past few days. I woke up early, cursing the vivid nightmare I'd had to suffer through. It wasn't even six a.m., but there was no way I'd be able to fall asleep again. I decided to get dressed and go for a run.

Once I had returned to the hotel and showered, I checked my email inbox. Unexpectedly, Mia had written to me. I noticed the subject read "flight", and as she'd be arriving the following day, I hurriedly opened it.

From: Mia G. Chef Extraordinaire

Subject: Flights

Date: May 26 2011 15:58 GMT+2

To: Christian Grey

Hey, Christian,

I can't wait to get out of here!

Rescue me. Please.

My flight number on Friday is AF8992. It arrives at 11:50 a.m. and Dad is making me fly coach! *pouting*

I will have lots of luggage. Love. Love. Love Paris fashion.

Mom says you have a girlfriend. Is this true? What's she like?

I NEED TO KNOW!

See you Saturday. Missed you so much.

À bientôt mon frère.

Mxxxxxxxxx

Oh, God! My mother and her big mouth! Anastasia was not my girlfriend! The drive from the airport to Bellevue was going to be hell, with Mia questioning me about every little detail. I wondered if Katherine was Anastasia's own Mia. Maybe I'd be able to distract her with fashion or her hate for French Chefs.

I sent Mia a short email to let her know I'd be there and wish her a safe journey home.

I spent the next few hours working, and at 9:45 I began to get ready for the graduation ceremony. I put on a black suit, imagining the look of approval Anastasia would give me. The blushing woman seemed to be constantly in my mind, and I quite liked her there.

At 10:00 precisely, Taylor knocked on my door, ready to drive me to WSU. Once I arrived at my destination, the Chancellor's secretary ushered me into a small room adjacent to the auditorium. The young woman blushed when I thanked her, reminding me of Anastasia. Of course, while on my Kitty I found it endearing, I didn't much care about the secretary's reaction. Coffee had been served in the room, and academics, administrative staff, and a few students drank some as they mingled, waiting for the ceremony to start. Among them, I spotted an annoying familiar blonde. Right, Miss Kavanagh is the valedictorian, I remembered.

She approached me with confidence, her elegant high heels contrasting with her loose graduation gown. She was smiling slightly, and I was willing to bet it wasn't at me but at the general happiness of finally graduating. I had been relieved to finish college myself, and Miss Kavanagh seemed the kind of woman ready to take over the world.

"Hi, Christian," she greeted me.

"Katherine," I nodded.

"I'd still much rather you call me Kate," she reminded me. She had mentioned it during breakfast the day before. It hadn't been much of an affair, as the four of us had been quite tired and hungry. Additionally, there had been an air of awkwardness between us; it was clear that morning-after breakfast should be reserved for the pair that had had sex and not a foursome.

"Kate. How are you?"

We exchanged pleasantries before my mouth got the better of me, asking, "Is Anastasia here?"

Miss Kavanagh—Kate, I reminded myself; there seemed to be little point in trying to remain unfamiliar—gave me a pleased knowing smile. She was looking more into my question than there was, even if Anastasia had already informed her we were just friends with benefits.

"She'll be here soon. She's with her dad," she added, and it sounded like a warning, but also like a test—one I didn't know the answer to.

"Yes, I know," I replied, playing it safe. If Kate was indeed anything like Mia, a longer answer could come with unexpected consequences.

She gave me one more measuring look right before the chancellor joined us. As he escorted me over to some academics he wanted to introduce me to, I finally realised Katherine wanted to know where I stood regarding meeting Mr Steele. She approved I wasn't shying away from being introduced to him, and I could only hope that didn't encourage her to reach the wrong conclusion. Anastasia and I weren't in a romantic relationship, no matter how much it'd upset her—or Mia, or Grace, or anyone else.

Soon, one of the faculty members announced it was time to begin and guided us through the corridor and into the auditorium. I could feel Katherine's eyes on me and I refrained from looking for Anastasia like the lovesick fool I was not, done with feeding the blonde's fantasies. Once we were seated and the chancellor began his speech, though, I scanned the mass of black-clad students, who were seated on the first several rows.

It didn't take me long to find her on the second row. Our eyes met and she gave me a small smile. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy and for an instant, the rest of the world seemed to disappear.

I couldn't wait to celebrate this milestone with her. Alone. Naked and in bed.

Damn, I needed to know what she was wearing underneath that ugly black gown. She always surprised me with the most exquisite lingerie!

Miss Kavanagh gave an inspiring address about embracing opportunities after college and got a rousing reception when she finished. It was clear she was smart, popular and confident; not shy and introverted like Miss Steele. It surprised me they had even become friends, but I gathered Kate was to Anastasia what my siblings were to me.

Next, it was my turn to give my speech. I spoke about the impressive work that the environmental science department of the University had been doing, developing viable and ecologically sustainable methods of farming for third world countries. I was used to giving speeches to crowds and I was well versed in what to do with my hands and eyes, yet I had to keep reminding myself not to stare at the most important person in the room. I did allow myself a brief look or two and always found her staring at me in utter concentration, hanging onto my every word. I loved it. Once again, I felt like the Master of the Universe. Everyone else could have been ignoring me, so long as Anastasia still valued my words as much as she clearly did.

When I finished my speech, the room rose to clap for me. The proud smile Anastasia was giving me made my heart grow several sizes.

Then, one of the Vice-Chancellors rose and started calling the names of every student. One by one, the graduates walked up to the stage, where I handed them their degrees. Over four hundred students were graduating that day. Why had I agreed to this? My arm was going to fall off by the time we were done.

It wasn't until nearly an hour later that they reached the 'S's. Anastasia walked inline among her fellow graduates as they stepped towards the side of the stage, waiting for their names to be called.

"Anastasia Steele," the Vice-Chancellors said, and my brunette walked up the stage.

"Congratulations, beautiful," I whispered huskily as I handed her the diploma. Suddenly, having spent an hour handing out pieces of paper to hundreds of strangers wasn't so terrible anymore. The cramp in my arm was worth the honour of handing Anastasia Steele her diploma. This was a day she would never forget, even after she'd got tired of me and my fifty shades, and she'd kicked me out of her life.

"Thank you," she answered with a blinding beam. Sadly, she had to move along, and I had to spend another eternity handing diplomas.

Yet another hour went by before the ceremony was brought to a close. I began following Katherine down the stage, but I was intercepted by the president of economic development. I watched with envy as the blonde met Anastasia and they walked together out of the auditorium.

I was guided to the marquee in which a celebration of sorts was taking place. Several tables had been set with finger food and drinks. None of it looked as appetizing as what my mother would serve, but I was starving, so I ate a few canapés and tea sandwiches as I was forced to mingle with more faculty staff.

The marquee had been nearly empty when we'd first stepped in, as students had been looking for their friends and family members or taking pictures outside, yet slowly but surely it began to fill up. I managed to stay close to the entrance, where I periodically scanted the newcomers, looking for Anastasia and her dad.

After nearly twenty minutes, I caught her walking into the marquee. She looked beautiful in a knee-length pink lacy dress. It was perfectly proper, yet exquisitely tight, and I just wanted to grab her and kiss her hard.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I murmured to the two academics who had been speaking to me, not caring if I had interrupted something. I needed to greet my girl.

"Hello, Anastasia. You look beautiful," I praised her once I was close enough, and she flushed charmingly.

"Hi. Thank you. Your speech was amazing," she answered with a bashful smile. "Let me introduce you to my Dad, Ray," she added as she gestured to her father nervously.

"Mr Steele, it's a pleasure to meet you," I spoke smoothly, holding out my hand. I was well versed at meeting new people, albeit not ones whose daughters I was fucking. I realized I was indeed pleased to meet Anastasia's father. She had mentioned she was much like him, and I was looking forwards to talking with him. I could only hope to learn more about the brunette through her dad.

Ray was taller than average and a few years younger than my father, with dark rich hair and a few wrinkles. He was dressed smartly, but he looked uncomfortable in his suit.

"Mr Grey," he replied as he shook my hand firmly. He gave me a calculating look, trying to measure me up from my stance and handshake. As a CEO, I was a pro at both. If he was trying to judge if I was good enough for her daughter from those facts, then he'd reach the wrong conclusion. I was a kinky asshole that knew how to make a good first impression.

Anastasia then pointed me towards the Kavanaghs, who had walked in right behind her. Them I had met before, either at business or social functions.

Kate made up some excuse and left me alone with the Steeles.

"Fine speech you gave, Mr Grey," commented Ray.

"Thank you, sir." Then, ready to buy him over, I said, "I understand that you're a keen fisherman."

"Indeed I am. Annie tell you that?"

"She did."

"You fish?" His brown eyes sparkled with curiosity, and I could see some of Anastasia in them.

"Not as much as I'd like to. My dad used to take my brother and me when we were kids. For him, it was all about the steelheads. Guess I caught the bug from him." Anastasia didn't seem to be paying attention to our words, looking around the room distractedly. She didn't care much about fishing.

"Oh? Where d'you fish?" Ray asked. I knew it was a test; one I'd pass more easily than Miss Kavanagh's.

"All over the Pacific Northwest."

"You grew up in Washington?"

"Yes, sir. My dad started us on the Wynoochee River."

He smiled slightly. "Know it well."

"But his favourite is the Skagit. The U.S. side. He'd get us out of bed at some ungodly hour of the morning and we'd drive up there. He's caught some mighty fine fish in that river." I had great memories of that place.

"That's some sweet water. Caught me some rod breakers in the Skagit. On the Canadian side, mind."

"It's one of the best stretches for wild steelheads. Give you a much better chase than those that are clipped," I said.

"Couldn't agree more."

"My brother's caught a couple of wild monsters. Me, I'm still waiting for the big one."

"One day, huh?"

"I hope so."

He nodded before turning to look at his daydreaming daughter.

"Annie, where are the restrooms?" he asked.

She directed him to go outside the pavilion and to the left.

"See you in a moment. You kids enjoy yourselves."

No sooner had he left than a photographer approached me to ask for a picture. I agreed and Anastasia took a step away from me, but I followed her and placed my left hand on her lower back. For me, this was her day, and it made little sense to take a picture without her. She looked up at me surprised before turning to look at the photographer. We smiled for the picture and the man thanked us before scurrying away.

"So you've charmed my father as well?" asked me Anastasia.

"As well?" I asked her, whispering huskily in her ear. The way I saw it, she wasn't charmed enough yet. If she had been, she wouldn't have been so reluctant to continue our relationship. Ironically, I was currently thankful she had insisted on a different contract: one which had unexpectedly allowed us to become friends.

As I had known it would, my warm breath on her ear made Anastasia blush. She shifted her weight away from me slightly.

As if her cheeks and my hands were magnets, my fingers rose to meet her flushed skin.

"Oh, I wish I knew what you were thinking, Anastasia," I whispered. What kind of thoughts—fantasies, memories… —went through her head whenever I whispered in her ear and made her blush? I cupped her chin and raised her head, my grey eyes meeting her darkened blue ones.

Her breath hitched and my heart skipped a beat. Her eyes bore into mine, looking into my soul and somehow liking what she saw.

"Right now, I'm thinking about you, my bed, and the lingerie hidden under my dress," she confessed huskily, the goddess having taken over the blushing girl.

My pants went a little tighter and a weird, strangled noise left my throat. She'd be the death of me.

My eyes, hungry, looked down at her lace-covered chest. The necklace hanging between her breasts reminded me I had some jewellery to give her.

With a finger, I reached to touch the pendant of her bronze necklace. It looked like a clock and had the words 'So many books, so little time' written on it.

"How nice," I whispered, using the excuse to caress her skin through the lace. Her chest flushed slightly. "It's perfect for you."

"Thank you. My Dad just gave it to me."

"I have something for you too," I confessed.

"You do?" she asked, high-pitched.

On Monday evening, I had racked my brain, trying to decide what to give her as a graduation present. She didn't like receiving things, as she had proved with the car and clothes, and I knew I had to keep it simple. I spent half an hour cruising the internet before finding the perfect gift, even if it was too cheap for my tastes. It was a golden bracelet with three plaques: two smaller circular ones, one with a graduation cap and the other with '2011' written on it, plus a larger one that read 'She believed she could so she did.' It was as if it had been designed just for her. I had ordered it online and managed to have it delivered to the hotel by Wednesday morning.

Just in case she found it tacky, and me a cheap bastard, I also got her an eReader with a case designed like a cover from Pride and Prejudice. I had left it at the hotel and could give it to her that evening if needed be. On the other hand, if she liked the bracelet I'd give the more expensive gift once she moved to Seattle, as a way to welcome her to the city.

I took from my pocket the small, red velvet bag I had had Taylor buy for the bracelet. She looked at it warily before taking it and upturning it on her open palm. Her eyes widened and sparkled, and she smiled as if I had got her diamonds.

Suddenly, she threw her arms around me in a hug, never touching my back. I stiffened for a second but then allowed myself to relax in her arms. I knew she wouldn't touch me in the wrong place. Awkwardly, I tried to return the gesture and hug her back. I was out of practice.

How come it was easier to be pressed against her when we were naked?

"It's perfect," she whispered. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," I answered awkwardly.

She pulled away from me and took a step back. I was both glad and sorry our hug was over.

With a wide smile, she put the bracelet on, still acting as though it had precious gems. Somehow, when she looked up at me, her grin seemed to grow. My lips formed a shy smile in return.

Just then, Mr Steele re-joined us.

"Annie, should we get some lunch?" he asked her.

"Sure."

"Would you like to join us, Christian?" Ray spoke, turning to look at me.

"Oh, no. I would hate to impose. I know you don't get to see each other as often anymore." I wanted to let Anastasia have alone time with her father. Also, as much as I had enjoyed meeting Mr Steele, I wasn't comfortable with spending more time with him. Much like my mother, he'd probably conclude we were more than friends. Of course, I'd much rather he thought we were in a committed relationship than friends with kinky benefits. He probably wouldn't approve of me tying up and spanking his daughter.

"It would be no problem," said Anastasia. I could tell she was only being polite, though.

"Don't worry about me. I'm yet to talk with the president of economic development, anyway. I'm flying back to Seattle tonight," I reminded her then. "I'll call you before leaving. Text me when you're back home."

"Alright," she answered with a knowing look. She had read between the lines and knew I was looking forward to meeting her again to celebrate.

I shook Mr Steele's hand before turning to look at Anastasia. I felt the impulse to kiss her goodbye—not something I used to do with my Subs—but I didn't know what she was comfortable with doing in front of her father. She took the lead, rising on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek sweetly. "Goodbye."

"Laters, baby." I winked, making her chuckle.

I spent another half hour in WSU, talking first with Mr Kavanagh, and then with the faculty. Meeting people and building bridges wasn't my favourite part of the job—I usually left it to Ros—but I could understand the need. I eventually made my escape and spent nearly an hour working from my hotel room before my phone pinged upon receiving a message.

I'm home. Thanks fuck.

I'll be there in 15. Don't you dare take off your dress.

Wouldn't dream of it.

That's my girl.

I put away my computer, texted Taylor to let him know I'd be leaving—I wondered what he thought of me, chasing after a petite brunette after years of being the chased one—, picked the bottle of Bollinger Grande Année Rosé I had bought for the occasion the day before, and left.

I made it to Anastasia's without issue. Upon ringing the bell, it only took her a few seconds to open the door roughly. I hoped she was as desperate to see me as I was to see her. Indeed, as I finally got to ogle her freely, her eyes devoured me. I had left behind my tie and jacket, and she seemed to appreciate how I looked in only my white shirt and black trousers.

"Hi," she whispered as she stepped out of the way to let me in.

"Hello, Anastasia. I thought we'd celebrate your graduation." I smirked and held up the champagne. I thought Anastasia would appreciate the play of words. Année, like my Ana, and Rosé, like her pink cheeks. "Nothing beats a good Bollinger."

"Interesting choice of words," she commented dryly.

I snickered.

Such a dirty mind.

"I love your ready wit, Anastasia." Among other things.

"Why, thank you. I do hope nothing beats a Bollinger in teacups, either, because I've just packed the glasses," she informed me with a smile of her own, gesturing at the pile of closed boxes that read 'kitchen' outside.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

Luckily, they were yet to pack away the corkscrew and other small miscellaneous. I opened the bottle as Anastasia looked for the teacups and placed them on the coffee table. I filled them up.

"It's pink!" exclaimed Anastasia with childlike wonder.

"Bollinger Grande Année Rosé 1999, an excellent vintage."

She looked at the closed cardboard boxes and pursed her lips. "Kate and I need to get wine glasses."

I laughed softly.

"Your stepfather's a very taciturn man," I said after taking a sip of champagne.

"You managed to have him eating out of your hand," she answered with a pout and I chuckled.

"Only because I know how to fish."

"How did you know he likes fishing?"

"You told me once, remember?"

"Not really."

"Hmm…" It had been… what? Only a few days ago? Albeit it hadn't been the focus of the conversation.

Suddenly, Anastasia's phone chimed, shocking us both. I was seated between her and the cell phone, so she had to stretch across my knees to grab it. Her warm body pressed against mine, turning me on fire. It hadn't even been forty-eight hours ever since we'd last had sex, yet I was already desperate for her. How would I survive the following week?

After checking the text, Anastasia stood up to straighten up her dress, which seemed to have twisted uncomfortably. Done with the wait, I didn't give her a chance to sit down and stood up myself.

"So beautiful," I whispered huskily as I reached out to grab her hips and kiss her sweet lips. It took Anastasia a second to react, but when she did, she kissed me back with passion. Her fingers found their way to my hair, something which I had come to love.

She was perfect for me.

"Bedroom," I said once I had come up for air as my lips found her neck, unable to leave her skin. It was a bumpy road to the bed, but we made it eventually. The last week notwithstanding, I was used to having sex at a scheduled time and place—more specifically, a playroom—and finding a bed while consumed with passion wasn't something I was practised on. I knew the same could be said about my Kitty.

When the back of my knees hit the mattress, I forced my lips away from hers and pulled away from her body. She whimpered in protest.

She was so needy for me.

So responsive.

I loved driving her wide.

I loved plenty of things to do to Anastasia, or do with Anastasia, or about Anastasia,

but because I was a man who enjoyed doing what he pleased

—so long as everything was consensual, of course—

I didn't panic, but rather basked in the pleasure of being with someone so well suited for me.

'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind

may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled,'

And so long as Anastasia was willing to give herself to me like this,

I was going to enjoy every little piece of her she let me have.

"Hush, Kitty. Be a good, patient girl. Stay still."

She stood tall and motionless as I walked around her and looked for her dress' zipper. I pulled it down slowly, teasing myself as I revealed her soft skin, pale and unblemished—unlike mine.

Together, we worked on removing her dress, revealing the white undergarments she hid underneath. Once she was naked, I spun her around so I could look at her breasts clad in a white lacy corset that went all the way down to her small waist.

I willed my eyes to leave her chest and look at the rest of her tempting figure.

She was exquisite.

"You look so sexy. Like a sinful angel. No one can fault Adam if Eve looked anything like you."

She bit her lower lip and I couldn't hold back anymore: I threw myself at her, ready to celebrate her graduation in the best way I knew.

We had just come down from an intense orgasm each. Our fucking hadn't lasted long, but it had been intense and satisfying. There was more where that came from, but I needed a minute to recharge.

As we rested on our sides, my hand caressing the soft skin of her hip and belly, I reflected on that afternoon's happenings. I had met Anastasia's father, and I hadn't been struck by lightning. I had given my girl a cheap but meaningful gift, and she had adored it—in fact, she was still wearing it. I had spent time with Anastasia, dressed and in public, and it hadn't felt weird at all. I had flirted with her, made her blush, and she had even thrown in a dirty comment about having me naked in her bed.

Such a dirty mind for a blushing innocent-looking girl.

I wondered…

"Tell me three sexual things you've never done and would like to do."

Naturally, she blushed furiously. Her eyes widened at my words comically. For someone who practised BDSM, a lifestyle that required plenty of talk about sex, she was unexpectedly uncomfortable with discussing such things.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes were akin to the ones of a child having been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. She had something in mind.

"Tell me," I insisted, caressing her cheek. I wanted to know what she was thinking. I wanted to make all of her dreams come true, especially the kinky ones. "We get to live up my fantasies all the time. I want to know what your mind can cook up, Miss English Major."

"Well... there's this thing I read..."

"I knew you read kinky stuff." I smirked.

"Of course I do." Well, I hadn't expected such an admission, but her honesty was appreciated. "It's called erotica, by the way. I wouldn't be practising BDSM if it weren't for it." Interesting. I wondered what the story was. "Anyway, in the book, the female protagonist had... a vibrating egg inside her, but it was turned off." As she spoke, her eyes evaded mine and her cheeks flushed impossibly red. I tried not to smirk, lest I scared her off. "Her partner had the... remote control, or whatever it's called. He could turn the egg on and off as he pleased." I loved her imaginative dirty mind. "The book scene was a bit too... public, though. I'd like to do that when we're at your apartment, all alone."

Consider it done, baby.

I could imagine us seated at the table having dinner, or lying on the couch watching a movie, her flushed, squirming and breathing hard because of the stimulation.

Her idea was making me horny again—or maybe I should say hornier—and I could tell her own words were turning her on too: her chest had flushed and her breathing had accelerated.

"What else?" I whispered huskily. I had, after all, asked for three, but if she was so fond of erotica, then she probably had a few dozens more fantasies.

"Well... I..."

"You can tell me."

Her face lowered a little in embarrassment but her eyes looked up at me from behind her eyelashes. "I've never been on top," she said with a small voice. That wasn't something I had been expecting. Anastasia had mentioned she'd had a friend with benefits before, and I was surprised it was something she hadn't done.

I myself hadn't been at the bottom even since college and Mistress Amanda, but if we were only Christian and Anastasia, friends with kinky benefits, instead of a Dominant and a Submissive, Master and Kitty, then maybe it'd be fine for me to let Anastasia ride me to her heart's content.

"I'll see what I can do about it," I answered with a smirk, suddenly liking the idea of Anastasia straddling me as I lay in bed, enjoying the show. "Now, your last fantasy."

She chewed on her lip as she pondered her answer. Was she trying to recall more fantasies, or was she trying to pick one from many? Because if it was the latter, then I'd be happy to lay with her for hours, listening to her talk about all the kinky things she wanted to do, so long as we could take breaks to fuck so I wouldn't combust or die from blue balls. Her blushing, which had diminished slightly, returned with a vengeance as the position of her teeth against her lip changed slightly, revealing she had thought of something that turned her on. I dedicated an instant to realising I knew her so well I could distinguish if she was thinking or horny, depending on how she was treating her lower lip.

"Look at that blush." It was certainly impressive. "Now you've got me really interested."

"Umm... I'm intrigued about... roleplay."

"Anything in particular?"

"Something like 'student gets in trouble and gets sent to the principal's office,'" she said and I nodded, knowing it was a popular fantasy, yet she wasn't done, "because she was selling sex toys to other students. She has a bunch on her backpack, so the principal uses them on her." She finished her explanation in a hurry and looked at me from the corner of her eyes.

Well, I'll be damned. That sounded deliciously dirty. My jaw gave out, opening as wide as my eyes.

I had figured out she had a sexy imagination, but this was unexpected. I had underestimated just how kinky she could be, and I had given her a lot of credit to begin with.

I started laughing, not because I thought it was funny but as an odd reaction to the surprise. Or maybe I was laughing at myself for being, for once, the innocent one?

"You're brilliant, baby!" I exclaimed excitedly. I grabbed her head and kissed her forehead, loving that brain of hers. "We can't do that right now, but I'll arrange it. You'll look sexy in a naughty schoolgirl outfit." I'd be ordering one online as soon as I could. "Right now, though, I want you, and I'd love to see your breasts bouncing in front of me as you ride me."

"Christian!" Mia squealed with delight the moment she saw me and ran toward me, abandoning her cartload of luggage.

She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. Having been in my life ever since she was a baby, she was the only person with whom my haphephobia didn't apply; she was the only one who could hug me freely, without having to worry about my no-go zones or making me tense up.

"I've missed you," she muttered against my chest.

"I've missed you, too," I answered as I hugged her back.

She leant back and examined me with intense dark eyes.

"You look good," she gushed. "Tell me about this girl!"

Why was everyone making such a big deal about me having a woman in my life?

"Let's get you and your luggage home first."

I grabbed her cart, which weighed a ton—I wouldn't be surprised if my father had had to pay for the excess load—and together we headed out of the airport terminal toward the parking lot.

"So how was Paris? You appear to have brought most of it home with you."

"C'est incroyable!" she exclaimed with her usual exuberance. I had missed her. "Floubert, on the other hand, was a bastard. Jesus. He was a horrible man. A crap teacher but a good chef," she replied, shaking her head in exasperation and making her long black hair fly all over the place.

"Does that mean you're cooking this evening?" I teased her.

"Oh, I was hoping Mom would cook," she replied with a frown. Did I usually joke so little my sister didn't realise I was ribbing her?

One leading question was enough to make Mia forget all about Anastasia and talk nonstop about Paris: her tiny room, the plumbing, Sacré-Coeur, Montmartre, Parisians, coffee, red wine, cheese, fashion, shopping. But mainly about fashion and shopping.

I had thought she'd gone to Paris to learn to cook.

I'd missed her chatter; it was soothing and welcomed as I drove us through Seattle's traffic. She was the only person I knew who didn't make me feel… different.

Actually, that was a lie.

I was surprised to realise Anastasia also made me feel like I fit into the world. Sure, she did make me feel different, but in a good way. Special.

After a long drive, we made it to Mum and Dad's home. I parked in the driveway and unloaded Mia's luggage. I carried the heaviest pieces into the hall, while Mia took care of the smaller ones. I should have thought twice before insisting Taylor I wouldn't need him.

"Where is everyone?" Mia asked in full pout. The only person around was my parents' housekeeper—an exchange student whose name I couldn't remember.

"Welcome home," she said to Mia in her stilted English, though she was looking at me with big cow eyes.

Oh, God. It's just a pretty face, sweetheart.

Ignoring the housekeeper, I addressed Mia's question. "At work. You did come home a day earlier than planned, and on a Friday to boot."

Mia pouted and huffed.

"I couldn't stand Floubert another minute. I had to get out while I could. Oh, I bought you a present."

She grabbed the smaller purple case, opened it up in the hallway, and started rummaging through it.

"Ah!" With a wide smile, she handed me a heavy square box. "Open it," she urged, eyes sparkling with excitement. She was an unstoppable force. How she could have so much energy after having spent most of the day on a plane, I couldn't understand.

Warily, I opened the box, and inside I found a snow globe containing a black grand piano covered in glitter. It was the kitschiest thing I'd ever seen, but I appreciate the sentiment. I'd have to make room for it in my home office's bookcase.

"It's a music box. Here," she spoke before taking it from me. She gave it a good shake, making it snow, and found a small key on the bottom. A beamish version of "La Marseillaise" started to play in a cloud of glitter.

It looked ridiculous and useless. I laughed because it was so Mia. "That's great, Mia. Thank you." I hugged her and she hugged me back.

"I knew it would make you laugh."

She was right. She knew me well.

That thought brought me back to my interview with Anastasia from weeks ago. I'd told her those who knew me well would claim I didn't have a heart, but I realised that wasn't true. I had, in part, been thinking about my Subs, yet I suspected I should give that matter more thought. They had all, after all, considered me a good Dom...

I reflected on it during my drive to GEH. After terminating our contractual relationships, most, if not all, of my Subs had complained about me keeping my distance, emotionally speaking. They hadn't accused me of not having a heart, but of not letting them in it, and I could finally realise there was a difference. Anastasia, I noticed with alarm, had wormed her way inside it. I had thought there had barely been enough space for my family, yet she had proven me wrong.

It made me feel vulnerable, and I didn't like it at all. I wished Flynn wasn't all the way in London, visiting his family. I wouldn't see him for another six days, and while hours ago I had been glad my confessions regarding Anastasia, friendship and vanilla sex would have to wait, I suddenly found myself wishing I could talk with Flynn.

Just then I arrived at GEH. I was glad my job would keep me busy and distracted for the next several hours.

I had been seated on my desk for a couple of minutes when Andrea spoke to me through the intercom. "Ros for you, sir."

We hadn't seen each other in a week.

"Let her in."

A few seconds later my door opened and the redhead walked in, tall and proud. Her heels clicked on the floor as she strutted towards me.

"Look who finally decided to show up at work! What was so urgent in Portland?"

"They needed me at WSU," I replied. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truthful answer to her question either.

"Really?" she asked with a smirk, tilting her head. "Because Elliot said something about a pretty brunette…"

I glared at her. Must everyone be so obsessed with Anastasia?

"You and Elliot need to stop gossiping about my life."

I rued the day they had become friends.

"That wasn't a no." Her smirk grew more pronounced.

There was no point in trying to lie to Ros.

"Just tell me about what you worked on this week," I ordered.

She relented but didn't stop smirking at me knowingly.

Dinner that night was a fun affair. Mia's absence had been felt, but I hadn't realised how much I'd missed her until then. She acted as the princess she'd always been, the rest of the family merely her minions, wrapped around her little finger. It was quite a talent.

With all her children home, Grace was in her element; she'd cooked Mia's favourite meal—buttermilk fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy.

In all honesty, it was one of my favourites, too.

"Tell me about Anastasia," Mia demanded as we sat around the kitchen table. I had managed to evade the topic that morning, but with four pairs of eyes looking at me with curiosity, I knew I wouldn't be so lucky again.

Elliot leant back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head.

"This I have to hear. You know she popped his cherry?" Oh, Elliot, if only you knew.

"Elliot!" Grace scolded him and swatted him with a dishtowel.

"Ow!" He fended her off.

I exhaled loudly, exasperated by their obsession. "I met a girl." I shrugged. "End of story."

"You can't just say that!" Mia objected, pouting.

"Mia, I think he can. And he just did." Carrick gave her a reproving paternal stare over his glasses. He always respected my limits more than anyone else, probably because of how much he had had to do so when I was a child. I had, after all, been wary of all males.

"You will bring her to dinner tomorrow, won't you, Christian?" Grace asked with a pointed smile.

Oh, fuck.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We haven't known each other that long…"

"Nonsense. It's not as if Elliot and I haven't already met her. She's a perfectly nice girl," insisted my mother.

"Kate's coming," Elliot goaded.

He had already told me that. Fucking stirrer. I glare at him.

"I can't wait to meet her. She sounds awesome!" Mia said, bouncing up and down in her chair. Why would she say that, when I hadn't shared any details about her? Unless Grace and Elliot had been talking before I'd arrived. I knew the fucker had spent the morning with her and Katherine, helping them settle into their new apartment; he had probably learnt more about Anastasia then.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, wondering if there was any way I could wriggle out of dinner. I knew Anastasia wouldn't want to come. "I'll have to check if she's free."

Grace and Mia look at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

Shit. It looks like Anastasia Steele is going to meet my family.

Any recognisable bit comes from Grey.

I hope you're enjoying my fic! Thank you for all of your kind reviews Until Wednesday!