chapter 2: devils roll the dice

Disclaimer: I couldn't help myself; this is all good fun. Based on "Cruel Summer" by Taylor Swift. I own nothing.

Killing me slow, out the window,
I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below,
Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes,
What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

"I have to say," Max dramatically announced as he entered Georg's study two weeks later, "as long as I have access to a superb wine cellar, the countryside is quite enjoyable."

"Even if you don't spend time in the countryside itself?"

Max wrinkled his nose. "It is enough for me to merely see it; I don't need to be in the countryside, among the bugs and dirt."

"I assume you would be more comfortable in glittering ballrooms among your gossiping associates, then," Georg asked with an uncharacteristic snort as he sat at his desk.

"Oh, when you say it in that tone, it makes me sound so…shallow." Georg chuckled at Max's pouting before a thoughtful expression grew on the impresario's face. "I can't help but notice, though, you seem content to do so."

"I know it may come as a shock," Georg began wryly, "but I enjoy spending time with my children."

"Hm, I can tell. Usually, by this point, you would be plotting an escape."

"It's impossible to plan an escape when I don't want to leave," he admitted quietly. "I've wasted too much time already."

Max raised a surprised eyebrow and studied the naval captain before brightening and relaxing in his chair. "I'm still wondering what that Fraulein said to make you realize that." Georg choked on his whiskey, Max certainly did not know, and Georg intended to keep it that way. "I sense she'd be the only one to convince you that the children should participate in the folk festival. I am eternally grateful she taught those children how to sing." Georg rolled his eyes and shook his head. Max mused for a moment before obliviously continuing, "Speaking of women we need to be grateful for, have you heard from Elsa yet?"

"Yes, I spoke to her just now. From what I understand, the investors are continuing to sabotage her, and push her out of the company, hence her delay."

"It is laughable that they doubt her capabilities. She is more business-minded than Werner ever was. It was only after they married that the company started expanding," Max indignantly pointed out.

"Yes, and yet her competence is constantly questioned. I don't know how she stands it."

The impresario grinned. "I think the prospect of millions of dollars and the desire to prove everyone wrong is worth it for her." Georg chuckled in agreement and took a sip of his whiskey. "It is unfortunate they prevented her from joining us."

"Hm," Georg mused. In many ways, he was grateful for her delay. He didn't want to think what might have happened if Elsa had been here after he kissed the governess. He also knew he would not have the option to spend the time with his children he did now. Ironically though, the children insisted they wanted to meet her at dinner, especially after he explained her delay.

"It's the principle of the matter, Father," Brigitta declared later that evening at dinner.

His middle daughter did have a point—he promised to return to Salzburg with the Baroness in tow and intended to keep it until Elsa's business associates had thrown a wrench in those plans. Still, he imagined it would be a good connection for his daughters, especially Liesl, seeing as she would soon make her debut.

However, Georg wasn't sure it was the best strategy to bring Elsa to Salzburg. Even if they did decide to get married, Elsa could not stay long-term due to her business, which had been well and good with him. In his grief, Georg convinced himself the children would be better without him. He had planned to send the children to boarding school, sell the villa and relocate to Vienna. There was no reason for him to stay in the place where his world had ended, and he forced weaknesses onto his children, making them pick up the pieces in his absence. But now, Georg knew how selfish and cowardly that was, and he was uncertain if Elsa would understand. Though she had saved him, or at least kept him afloat, during his darkest days, Georg changed.

Regardless, there was no getting out of it. Knowing his children, they would continue to ask about Elsa. Not to mention, Elsa would be undoubtedly confused by his drastic change, and Georg felt it wouldn't be fair to tell her by phone or telegram.

What a mess.

And yet, he couldn't help but be overjoyed by the relationships he was rebuilding with his children.

If he did not have work in the morning, he would join the children and governess, and vice versa if his afternoons were free. The routine had developed organically over the last two weeks. One free morning, he stopped by the schoolroom and was enraptured by each child diligently working on a writing assignment. Maria helped the youngest girls at their shared table. When Gretl noticed his presence, she demanded his assistance in writing the word "ocean," and he could not refuse. After helping Gretl, he read through the other children's works and was thoroughly impressed with their abilities. After that night, he decided to pop in more often.

In fact, Georg joined the children on their governess's mountain earlier that week, though it had been entirely unplanned. His morning meeting had been canceled, and he headed to the schoolroom. To his surprise, the room was empty, though there was a great deal of commotion coming further down the nursery hallway. Shortly, he saw the children exit their rooms in the hideous play clothes he had begrudgingly allowed them to keep for day trips. Before he knew it, he, too, was on his way to Fraulein Maria's Mountain.

Georg expected chaos once they neared town, but to his shock, they had everything, even their detour to the market, planned out precisely. Brigitta, Louisa, and Kurt bought fruit, while Liesl and Friedrich bought fresh bread from a stand. Marta and Gretl brought the basket to their siblings to collect the items while the governess observed. Georg stood bewildered, unsure what to do. His uncertainty remained even after they boarded the train. The children seemed to have their spots and promptly filed in—Louisa, Kurt, and Brigitta upfront, while Liesl and Friedrich occupied the back row. Marta, Gretl, and Fraulein Maria took an empty middle row. Seeing there was no room, Georg sat in the row just before them and slid next to the window. Though he was content to sit alone, a small gasp pulled his attention over the seat.

"Gretl," Marta exclaimed, "We won't have to fight over who gets to sit in Fraulein Maria's lap!"

"Why?" Gretl grumbled, settling next to the window, "It's your turn, anyway."

"It's okay; I want to sit with Papa, so you can sit with Fraulein Maria," Marta happily announced, unaware of her father's attention.

Gretl's eyes narrowed, trying to figure out if her sister was pulling some trick, but after looking up at her Fraulein for reassurance, she nodded in agreement. The youngest von Trapp immediately settled into Maria's lap and leaned back, ready to take in the scenery. Georg's heart constricted as he noticed the Fraulein wrap her arms around his daughter and gently hum in her ear. Georg turned and made eye contact with his most timid child.

"I hear I am to have a train partner after all?" he warmly asked. To his delight, Marta brightly smiled and hurried into the row but suddenly stopped, as if she had just realized what she was doing. She averted her gaze and placed her hands on her lap. Shame overcame Georg, seeing the result of his negligence. His child shouldn't be scared to sit with him nor hesitate to sit in his lap.

"Marta, darling, do you want to sit in my lap? That way, we can enjoy the view together."

Marta shyly nodded and scooted closer to him. Georg slowly scooped her up. To his joy, she immediately relaxed against him as the train started to move.

Utensils clattering against plates momentarily snapped Georg out of his musings. Thankfully, none of his dinner companions noticed his distraction, all occupied in their own conversations, allowing Georg to drift off again.

Marta and Gretl demanded the most attention each day, though he tried to balance time evenly among his children. He would listen to Brigitta read, and they would discuss her favorite books. Kurt would tell him about his latest favorite food, and Friedrich would ask him questions about his time in the Navy. He and Liesl would take walks around the lake. Finally, he and Louisa wouldn't talk but sit in companionable silence during various activities. Their unbridled joy throughout the day made the aches in his bones and the tears in his shirt and muddy shoes worth it.

Then, there were times when the children were occupied during their independent work time and their leisure time alike, leaving the adults to themselves. Max was often busy during the day, so Georg and the governess would be left alone. Most times, the Fraulein filled the time with her incessant chattering. Georg initially thought he would get easily annoyed and need to excuse himself, but he found himself more often endeared. He learned more about her childhood in the mountains, education, and entrance into Nonnberg. She was so much more than he expected, which exacerbated his confusion. He did not understand how someone as full of life as her would willingly lock themselves away.

However, it was for the best. The reminder she was promised to God helped ground him. Georg could not leave their terrace encounter behind despite their promises to move on. His subconscious conjured up cruel dreams, night after night. His Maria was merciless, teasing, torturing, and kept him on the infuriating edge of a precipice from which he could never fall. He would wake up drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, and painfully aroused. During the day, his dreams would flash in his mind. He would get distracted by her lips or the curve of her behind, or the neckline of her dress. It happened more often than he cared to admit.

In fact, she caught him staring during dessert. Georg was distracted by a bit of chocolate cake that had remained on her bottom lip and became lost in yet another daydream. He could imagine the taste of chocolate mixing with her own sweetness as he kissed that crumb off her lip. Then, as he continued to kiss her, she would melt into his embrace like she did by the lake. Lost in his thoughts, Georg was oblivious to his stare, while Maria was more than aware of his attention at the other side of the table. First, her eyes widened in surprise, unsure if the Captain was focused on her. His expression did not change when she raised his brow, and her eyes narrowed.

"Captain, are you alright?" she tactfully asked.

He mutely blinked until he registered her address and quickly dismissed her concern to the best of his ability, but she wasn't stupid—naïve perhaps—but never stupid. For the rest of the night, she watched him with a thoughtful expression. Thankfully Max had not been present during the exchange, as he had been called away to answer a call, and the children were far too occupied bickering about what songs they would sing in the sitting room to notice.

Mercifully, Franz appeared with a telegram, allowing Georg to escape to his study, grateful for some space. He felt restless under her attention and the damned images appearing in his mind. He couldn't even read the telegram. He hoped a walk around the lake would refocus his thoughts. Georg snuck outside, careful to avoid the children, their governess, and Max, who had returned from his call.

Georg inhaled the crisp night air as he descended the terrace stairs to walk along the Pegasus gates. The faint smell of algae and fish mingled with the night air as a light breeze rustled the water, grass, and trees. Georg acutely missed the ocean. He wished he could taste the salt in the air and the roar of the ocean. He wished he was walking on sand rather than damp grass. Frustrated, Georg stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as he followed the curve of the lake.

More annoyingly, despite his best efforts to not think about the Fraulein, he couldn't help it. He felt bad about ogling her and did not want to make her uncomfortable. He knew he was already on rocky ground, but he would sooner throw himself into the lake than give her a reason to leave. He frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, knowing he shouldn't continue acting like this nor succumbing to her distractions. He needed to focus on his children and figure out how to explain things to Elsa.

As he ascended the terrace steps, he vowed to employ some famous von Trapp discipline and get his act together. He reached into his pocket to unlock the door, knowing Franz must have already turned in for the night. To his abject horror, he did not feel any keys. He checked his other pockets with a sinking feeling that they must be on his desk. He swore under his breath, realizing he had forgotten to grab them before sneaking outside.

Is this what he was reduced to—a daydreaming fool who can't remember his keys?

Quickly weighing his options, he recalled an open window in the sitting room and hoped no one had closed it. He circled the outside perimeter of the sitting room and searched for the open window. However, there were none to be found. Frau Schmidt or Franz must have done a sweep before retiring. He again swore under his breath and began strategizing. There had been no open windows on the first floor, but he hadn't looked at the second level. Sighing, he made another round, and miraculously, a window was open near the ivy that slithered up the brick.

So focused on solving his predicament, he didn't consider what room—or whose room—he might be climbing to.

After the children went to bed, Maria walked to her room, thinking over the evening's events. Dinner had started out normally enough—the children behaved impeccably as they chatted with the Captain, who indulged their stories with a permanent grin. Herr Detweiler contributed to the merriment with his entertaining stories, though some were inappropriate for the youngest children, causing Maria or the Captain to interrupt. They shared a short glance each time, determining who would volunteer to switch the subject. Maria found she enjoyed those moments more than anything—it was as if they shared an unspoken secret.

She shook her head at the memory as she opened the door to her bedroom, remembering the tightening in her stomach, though she was unsure what it meant. Wanting some fresh air, she opened the window and sat on her bed. During dessert, something changed. Maria was grateful the children had been distracted, and Herr Detweiler was not there to question the situation because the Captain had been clearly staring at her. Uncomfortable by the attention, she asked if he was alright. She sensed he was embarrassed, but he was able to answer in that infuriatingly aloof tone. She narrowed her eyes, still suspicious, but was momentarily distracted by a question from Gretl before she could study him further.

Despite his guarded exterior and that confusing interaction, the Captain was enjoyable company. He was surprisingly witty and self-deprecating, which changed from Herr Detweiler's unwavering confidence. They also shared an easy banter, in direct contrast to their argument by the lake.

However, as much as Maria enjoyed their small interactions, she preferred seeing him interact with his children. He was devoted to their well-being and invested in each child as an individual. When he pressed a kiss to Gretl's forehead, squeezed Marta's hand in assurance, ruffled Friedrich's hair, or teased Kurt—there was a softness in his eyes that hurt Maria's heart. He made such progress with them, though there was still far to go.

The small chimes from the clock on her desk broke her train of thought, and Maria gasped in surprise. It was later than she had thought, and she knew she would have a long day tomorrow after a weekend break with the children.

Maria quickly grabbed undergarments and robe before hurrying to the bathroom. Thankfully, she did not have to wash her hair, so she quickly brushed her teeth and showered. Once she finished, she dried her body with a plush towel and quickly slipped on her underwear before looking around for her nightgown. She huffed in annoyance as she realized she had left it on her desk chair. Haphazardly tying the sash of her robe, she opened the bathroom door and walked across her room to grab the nightgown. Nightgown in hand, she stepped over the window, intending to close it, before she heard a rustling. Frowning, she looked outside, but all seemed to be quiet.

Until she looked down, and the Captain was there, scaling the side of the villa.

"Captain!" she gasped, leaning over the windowsill. "What are you doing?"

The Captain's head snapped up, and he nearly lost his grip but managed to steady himself. "Fraulein, do be quiet; we don't need to wake the whole house," he sharply whispered.

"But what are you doing?" she asked again, disbelief growing by the minute.

"I'll tell you once I am not dangling off the side of the villa," he grunted as he pulled himself higher up the wall. He was grateful for his military training; otherwise, he wasn't sure if he could scale a wall at this age.

Maria watched in fascination as the Captain moved, more like a cat than anything, as he gracefully climbed higher and higher along the wall. She let out a soft cry when he nearly lost his grip but sighed in relief as he successfully reached the windowsill. She stepped back to give him room to hoist himself over the ledge and safely into her room, taking in his disheveled hair, perspiration-covered forehead, and curious lack of a suit jacket. She could see the dark hair peeking out from the unbuttoned top of his shirt, and her stomach immediately tightened.

As she took him in, he was doing the same to her. He expected to be more exhausted after his climb, but seeing his governess in nothing more than a poorly tied robe made his mind short circuit. He could see the unobstructed plane of her chest and décolletage, making his mouth water. He took an unconscious step forward, and she did the same. They stood wide-eyed, the tension crackling between them until an unexpected breeze made them both shiver. Snapping out of her trance, Maria brushed passed him to reach the window and close it. Her scent bombarded him—fresh soap mixed with airy florals and something else that was just her—and he felt his knees go weak. He took a deep breath and tried to calm the hammering in his chest and the unabashed desire he felt building.

The alarm bells were going off in his head, but he was glued to this spot. Maria passed him again after the latch clicked, and Georg was grateful—though slightly disappointed—to see she had righted her robe and was now looking at him with narrowed eyes as if he were one of the children.

"Now, Captain," she began sternly, "Will you tell me what on earth you were doing?"

Georg gaped at her, taken aback by her control and focus and his lack thereof. Why did she affect him so profoundly? How had she wiggled her way into his subconscious after mere days? Georg von Trapp did not kiss his governess, Georg von Trapp did not lust after his employees nor ogle them at dinner, and most importantly, Georg von Trapp did not get locked out of his own home! Needing to escape, the former naval captain turned on the ball of his foot and took two long strides to the door.

"That is none of your concern, Fraulein," he sharply responded, hoping his tone would silence her.

Before Maria registered her actions, she had moved between the door and the Captain, who was equally surprised. When she realized what she had done and all the implications of her action, she felt a flush crawl up from her chest to her neck and face but prayed he didn't notice. Clearly, he did as his lips quirked, sparking a rage inside her.

How dare he be so smug. If anyone should be embarrassed in this situation, it should be him. He was the one that climbed through her window, but he seemed so unaffected. Clearly, he had made good on his promise to move on from their terrace incident, yet she couldn't help but think about that odd exchange at dinner. Even now, she felt his gaze on her lips and saw the fidgeting of his fingers. She couldn't help but want to rile him up as he did to her.

"I believe it is, Captain," she evenly replied, "you made it my business the moment you climbed into my room."

His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, taking a step back. "A mere technicality. I did not realize it was your room. For that, I apologize."

"I will accept your apology once you tell me why you climbed up here."

"Now, Fraulein."

"Now, Captain."

He took in her set jaw and pursed lips, knowing she wouldn't budge. She was the reason he was up here, but he couldn't tell her that, and she was too distracting for him to come up with a logical excuse. During their silent battle, his gaze trailed down her neck to her clavicle and focused on the cleavage poking out from her robe. Resolve crumbling, he took an unconscious step towards her and deeply inhaled. He hoped his commanding presence would make her move—that worked with his sailors—but she didn't even blink.

"You never do as you are told, do you?"

Simmering satisfaction settled low in Maria's abdomen as she looked up at him, eyes blazing in defiance.

"Never."

A rumble in his chest and the darkening of his eyes flipped Maria's stomach. She couldn't pinpoint what emotion she was feeling—it wasn't anger, but frustration didn't convey its intensity—but she knew he was the cause. She watched him watch her and felt a thrill shoot up her spine as he took another step forward, boxing her in against the door. Maria focused on the outdoors mixing with his natural scent—why did she remember that—and her legs shook. She was grateful the door was holding her up. Otherwise, she would be a pile on the floor. She couldn't decide whether she wanted him to back away or get closer. Anything to break the current crackling between them.

"I should have known."

"What?" she breathed, surprised by his gentle tone.

He shook his head and waved his hand to brush away his statement. "Fraulein, you must let me pass."

"I don't understand what is so difficult about answering a simple question, Captain."

"You're the one making it difficult," he childishly retorted.

"Oh?" she feigned obliviousness. "How am I doing that?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

His lips curled into a devilish grin. He shook his head and leaned in, his warm breath burning her skin. The knot in her stomach tightened tenfold as she felt his arms slither around her, but before she registered what he was doing, he opened the door, spun her out of the way, and escaped into the hallway.

Thank you for your patience these last few months. My life has been crazy, and I have had barely any time to write. I make no promises for the next update, but I intend to finish this story no matter how long it takes. I would absolutely adore if you shared your thoughts. I know our characters are OOC (it is an AU, after all), but I hope to give more insight into Maria and Georg's thoughts in the following chapters.

REMINDER: This story will become M-rated after this chapter, so please make sure you change your search settings accordingly when looking for it in the future. I hope you and yours are well! xxx