When he awoke in the morning, Georg Von Trapp kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, half-afraid to open them lest he discover that the night before had been a dream. If he were to find himself alone again, well he would just not be able to bear it... But that was definitely not the case, he realised as he dredged himself into consciousness, for he could feel a warm body pressed against his and hear the rhythmic breathing of the woman sleeping beside him. He smiled broadly, now perfectly content to open his eyes.

He feasted his gaze on his wife, drinking in the sight of her nestled so peacefully against him. A slight smile played on her lips as her shoulders rose and fell. Her hair was delightfully tousled, her lips as enticingly smooth and plump as always.

He skimmed his eyes downwards, annoyed to see that the bed covers hid most of the rest of her figure. He could remember well though, his recollections helped by the feel of the curve of her hip pressed against his leg, and the touch of her other hand draped lazily over his chest. He became suddenly impatient to wake her.

But she looked so contented and at peace. He thanked God again, this time for the night that they had shared.

He had been afraid, given that she had never expected to find such things in her life that she would have been more reluctant, more guarded with him. In the end he had just been honoured by the amount of trust that she had placed in him, and delighted, thrilled, and exhilarated by her enthusiasm.

He was a passionate man by nature, at least he had been. Any of his former lovers would have attested to that.

And he was certain, after the night that they had shared, that Maria could be an equally passionate woman.

Georg shifted reflexively.

It would be quite wrong to wake her just to satisfy his own physical desires... wouldn't it?

He did not have too long to debate the morality of this decision, for Maria's eyes suddenly flicked open. Her face broke into a broad smile.

It was a rather wonderful sight to awaken to, she decided as she opened her eyes to see her husband lying above her. It was a sight quite reserved for intimate couples, and one which she already loved.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a lop-sided smile of his own.

She kissed his hand as he grazed it across her cheek and began to lift herself upwards, intending to kiss him on the lips.

He groaned as she stretched her body along his own, and Maria blushed. He looked almost apologetic.

"We, um... don't have to... I mean if you don't..."

She laughed. He was utterly adorable in his awkwardness, and as lovely as she had ever seen him.

She pretended to consider for a minute, keeping him waiting and shifting her weight subtly from side to side as she pondered.

He took a shaky breath and lay back on the pillows, his eyes closed.

"You are a cruel woman, my darling..."

She laughed again, amused and flattered by the effect she was having on him.

"And whilst you are being such a gentleman..." she kissed his chest lightly.

He recognised the playful, flirtatious note in her voice and responded in kind, suddenly rolling her over onto the other side of the bed, pinning her against the sheets with his weight.

"A gentleman, hmm?" he questioned.

Her breath caught on her reply.

"Aren't you always?"

It was his turn to laugh and also- now that he was absolutely sure his wife wanted him as much as he wanted her- his turn to tease.

"Hmm... sometimes..." he kissed the hollow of her neck, "Though I have been called other things..."

"What things?" her words disappeared into a gasp.

"Oh, terrible things my darling..."

He kissed his way to her ear.

"Let's see..." he moved away with an amused smirk, hearing her sigh of consternation as he lifted himself onto his elbows.


"A scoundrel from time to time..." she reached out towards him now, but he would have none of it, instead catching her wrist and lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it.

"A rogue..."

"I take it back," she answered, "You're not a gentleman at all! In fact you're quite a-"

He laughed, "Rascal...?" he suggested, running his hand carelessly across her stomach, "You'll find, my dear, you have married quite the pirate..."

"And you waited until now to tell me this?!"

"Oh, I'm sure you knew that quite well all along..." he replied, lowering his lips back to her neck and whispering in her ear, "Being a gentleman can become most terribly dull at times..."

He watched as she tensed her lips, still smiling, though bound by her competitiveness not to break first. He knew precisely what he was doing however, and soon had elicited exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

"Georg... please..."

He couldn't keep the conversation going much longer, especially not with such a plea.

"In fact at this very moment, my darling..." he continued, "I have quite the mind to show you just how very un-gentlemanly I can be..."


It was a rather different sight which greeted Maria when she awoke the next morning, though fortunately one which still included her husband. For a moment she was slightly disorientated, until the rhythmical jolting motion she felt coming from somewhere underneath the floor reminded her that they were in a first class train compartment, speeding towards Paris.

Paris. She could hardly believe it. To visit such a city had never been a thought which she had even entertained. Almost until the moment they had boarded the train the previous evening, she had believed that her feet would never touch the ground of any country except for her beloved Austria.

The children and Max had come to see them off, racing along after the train as it had pulled away from the platform. Maria and Georg had waved to them until they had vanished into a cloud of steam.

Maria was sure that she would miss them all terribly, though at that moment she could think of nothing better than spending six weeks uninterrupted with her husband.

He lay, still sleeping, seemingly undisturbed by the clattering sounds of the train which had woken Maria earlier than usual. She smiled and kissed him softly on the forehead before gently extricating herself from the bed covers.

Her nightgown lay discarded on the floor and she picked it up, blushing at the sight of it. It had been a rather embarrassing moment the evening before when she had discovered that all she had to wear to bed was the same nightgown she had owned as a governess. The 'tent of a garment' as her husband had put it, was certainly not what she had supposed he would most like her to wear, but it was all that had been packed in her overnight bag. At least it had not mattered on their wedding night, she had mused before bracing herself for what her husband might say.

"I'm quite sure I told Frau Schmidt to destroy that infernal garment!" he had declared, regarding her in amusement as she had stood awkwardly in front of him.

A few minutes later however, his reaction had somewhat changed. Apparently removing her from that particular nightgown had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

"In fact it occupied my dreams disturbingly often after seeing you in it that first evening..." he had admitted with a wink.

"The first evening?!"

He had shrugged sheepishly, "Um-hmm...Well I might have been out of my mind with anger, and thought you an undisciplined, hot-headed, naive-"

"-stubborn, megalomaniacal, pig-headed-" she had retorted with a smile.

"Exactly..." he had come slowly towards her, "And I might well be all of those things. But I am still a man. I did notice."

She had not remained in the nightgown for long.

She smiled at the memory, a silly rather goofy smile, before making her way into the adjoining bathroom.

By the time she returned, Georg had awoken, though he still sat in bed, propped up on the pillows. The sight of him immediately caused her to blush. She still had not got used to seeing him in such a state of undress.

He tut-ted when he saw that she was fully clothed.

"I much prefer the way we uh... woke up, yesterday," he answered her questioning glance.

"Me too, my love," she kissed him lightly on the lips, "But we are due into Paris in an hour."

It was in fact a little over an hour before the train drew into a bustling Gare Du Nord, and time therefore for Georg Von Trapp to have his way after all.

Maria had never seen anything like the station before. It was busy, full of people running this way and that, clambering on and off trains departing from the many different platforms. The air was filled with the smell of steam, the whistles of the railway guards, and a perpetual hum of chatter in a language Maria was entirely unfamiliar with.

Everything was excitingly foreign, new, and different.

Maria stayed close to her husband as they made their way to the station concourse, and listened in admiration as he conducted a fluent conversation with a taxi driver. Soon they were speeding away from the station and into the boulevards of Paris, the scenery flashing by the windows in a bewildering, exhilarating mass of colours.

Georg smiled at his wife's wide-eyed expression as she pressed her nose against the window of the car, and listened in delight as she drew his attention to the passing people and buildings. He had been sure that she would love Paris, and could not wait to show her around the city which he so admired.

Their hotel was not far away from the main station, tucked down a deceptively small and winding street. Once again Georg had chosen accommodation which many others might have overlooked, confident that his wife would appreciate the intimacy of staying somewhere slightly smaller- though certainly not a bit less luxurious- than the grand establishments on the Champs-Elysees. He could well imagine Elsa delighting in daily sojourns around the ballrooms of such decadent places, in fact he had seen it for himself just a few months ago, but was sure that Maria would find far greater delight in the more personal and careful touches of the hotel he had chosen.

It seemed that he had been quite right in his estimations, for they had scarcely entered their suite before she had flung her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth.

It was a gorgeous room- a little larger than their mountain retreat in Salzburg- for after all, they would be spending over a month living there- but with carefully crafted furnishings and well-placed lighting, he was sure that the rooms would have just as intimate an atmosphere.

The best feature though was by far the view. Once again the suite took up the entire top floor of the hotel and an elegant, white-railed balcony stretched around the entire perimeter of the building, offering them a perfect view of the Parisian landscape in every direction.

They had hardly explored the room at all before Maria had led the way outside, gasping in delight at the panorama laid out in front of her.

"Oh, it's just wonderful!" she exclaimed, turning full circle.

They walked the length of the balcony hand in hand, Georg pointing out all of the famous monuments they could see, with the promise that he would take her to every single one of them. The Eiffel Tower, Champs- Elysees, Arc De Triomphe, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame... all places which Maria had only read about, and which she now saw before her very eyes.

"It's a place of great contrasts, I've always thought," Georg said as they stepped back inside, "Boulevards and winding alleys, glorious ballrooms and... uh... seedy bars..." she hissed in exasperation as his musings turned into a chuckle, "Sorry my dear..." he cleared his throat, winking at her, "Penniless artists living alongside some of Europe's wealthiest aristocrats... You can't walk for two minutes before you see some unusual marriage of ideas somewhere..."

"Like Captain and governess?" she suggested.

He regarded her carefully before nodding his head slowly, "In which case the Parisians are the luckiest of people..." he paused, "Because those unusual marriages have a habit of working out perfectly."


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