Chapter 3

On and off that day, Gilbert slept. His mother was in and out of the room checking his breathing when he was still, hoping that Anne didn't notice what she was doing. The bed was changed, and Anne went for a walk around the yard while Gilbert's needs were attended to, and when she returned Gilbert lay exhausted in a clean pair of pyjamas. Anne couldn't help but smile at the tired grin he gave when he saw her come in, complimenting her on her green dress. Anne only thanked him with a twinkle in her eyes, as she looked down at the yellow gown she wore. Sonia rolled her eyes.

"Wishful thinking, Anne. He likes you wearing green."

Anne's eyebrows flew up, and Sonia smiled sadly. "We heard all about that during the first three weeks of the fever. I told you that he talked about you." She straightened up from the bed, her eyes filling. "Anne- thank you. Whatever happens- I won't forget that you were with us."

Anne couldn't bring herself to meet Sonia's eyes this time. "Thank you for letting me come."

After dinner that evening the doctor visited again, his brow lowered thoughtfully as he spoke to Sonia and John. Anne left the room at Sonia's request, who had filled a hot bath for her guest in the spare room. The doctor bent over Gilbert, his stethoscope on the emaciated abdomen, poking and prodding, and asking a now fairly lucid Gilbert questions. After he was done he drew Gilbert's parents out to the landing, not realising that Gilbert could hear every word.

"I don't want you to get your hopes up- I've seen these signs before and thought we had won- but I believe he might be turning a corner now. The girl is doing him good- let her stay. Don't say anything to her yet- don't say anything to him. The fever is dropping- the delirium is receding- if it doesn't go up, we might have a chance."

Sonia's blazing eyes were on him, and he waited. "You think there is hope."

"Yes. I do."

That night, Sonia had persuaded Anne to change for bed, telling her that she would relieve her when she had finished washing the sheets and towels. Anne slipped into a nightgown and robe, a robe that covered every last inch of her- and her cheeks flushed. Nothing so scandalous as a short-sleeved nightgown should be seen, after all. Feeling self-conscious nonetheless, she wrapped the robe around her and stood in the doorway of Gilbert's room. She walked to the chair she had spent so many hours in, and sat down with a sigh, taking up the book on his nightstand- Gilbert's copy of Treasure Island. She was preparing to read when he spoke.

"Anne."

She smiled, holding the book in front of her. "I thought you might like a classic before bed, Gil."

Awareness of her nearness seemed to flood through his body, and Gilbert lay back at the sight of her, his mouth suddenly dry. She sat in his chair like she belonged there- and in her nightgown, no less! Didn't she know better than to do that around him? His eyes fell on the sleeve of his own pyjamas and he smiled wryly. He supposed propriety was obsolete at a time like this. After all, what could he do? He couldn't even hold his head up. His breathing hitched slightly then. He'd resigned himself to the worst- he'd felt himself slipping away from his parents- and the truly awful thing was that he hadn't even cared. There was a childish fear of the deathbed- but even it had failed to scare him properly. He'd mostly just felt tired.

And then Anne had come- still, a small part of him was afraid she wasn't real- but she was there. Doing things he hadn't expected- saying things that were neither the cold rebuff he had expected nor the feverish dream-clad images he had seen of her, where she only said the things he wanted her to say. No, this was Anne- alive, unpredictable, vital- and she was pulling him back to something that confused him- life.

She hadn't begun to read- the book lay on her lap, and her eyes were distant. In truth, he welcomed the silence. He lay slowly testing out his senses. His hands were tucked under his sheet- that was most annoying- and it was night time. Accounting for the nightgown, he supposed. He'd had his bed changed, he remembered that- and then he scowled slightly. His joints felt as if he had been thrown from a horse, after that ordeal. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. The exhaustion in his body was bone-deep- he thought he knew what that meant. If the doctor was wrong- if these were his last days on earth, then surely one of his regrets was that he hadn't done something to make his ceiling more interesting. It was diverting regret- but then nothing could divert him from Anne.

Gilbert watched her now, hungrily trying to take in her presence. She was rocking in the chair, her curling red hair back in a long braid. Her face was shadowed- with a start, he understood why- that her anguish was for him. A sinking feeling hit the stomach that had been unsettled for months now. This- this was no game. Of course, it was serious- why else would his parents allow her to be in his bedroom at night dressed as she was? Her eyes were on the far wall, on a tapestry his mother had made, of a river fringed with willows, and Gilbert used the silence to sort through the escalating panic in his mind. Before, he'd had nothing to lose- of course his parents loved him, and always would. The Cooper Prize was won, he had succeeded in that mission. Oh, he would probably have made for himself a good life- duty and learning and service. But love- love was tied to the girl beside him- the one who had told him two years ago that she could never return his.

He stood on a precipice now. It wasn't only life and death- it was the fear of truly living again that bothered him. When he had lost Anne he'd settled for a life of achievement where he chose what he would work for- but Anne was different. She was a gift- and the only one who could give her heart was Anne herself. She chose. If he lived, there was still a chance he would not have her.

It was only then that the morning's conversation flooded his mind- how had he forgotten that? She cared- somehow she had thought him engaged. And she wasn't with Gardner.

As he lay, his breathing coming fast, he turned his head to look at her, a glint of fire rising in his hazel eyes. Now- now he had something to fight for.

"Anne?" he breathed then, smiling at the way she flew up from the chair to his side.

"Gilbert, I thought you had gone to sleep! Do you need anything?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I, err- would you get a fellow some water, please?"

She chuckled, and he noticed with a start that her robe was not tied, and the white cotton of her pretty nightgown was visible. He tried to keep his eyes averted, his cheeks flushing. "Not just any fellow, Gil. But I will for you." She helped him sip the water, and he lay back with a sigh of relief. She sat back on the chair then. "You've been sleeping a lot today, Gil."

He paused, watching her face carefully. "Isn't that a pretty good sign?"

She gave a slight smile. "Maybe. I'd feel better if your temperature dropped as well though."

"So would I." He shifted on the bed slightly, and with a tremendous effort, he moved his hand toward hers. "Anne? I need to tell you something."

She looked at him with the eyes that were like those of no other girl, and he smiled wistfully. "This isn't what I had pictured. Not in the middle of the night, in my room while I'm- sick. There should have been flowers- and I should at least have been able to lift up my own head." He sighed, seeing the tear that traced down her smooth cheek at his words. "But it just is, Anne. I need you to know- that I love you." There was silence, and she lifted a tear-stained face to watch him. He gave a slight shrug, his eyes kind. "As you say, we tell the truth. Even if- by some chance this is it, I want you to know that. I always have."

She knelt down by his bed, her hand on his cheek, her eyes swimming with tears. "Are you really here, this time, Gil?" she pleaded. "I need to know that this isn't delirium, that it's really you talking-"

"'Course it's me," he said with a faint grin. "Ask me anything. I'm the Cooper prize winner. You wore my flowers to convocation. And a blue dress."

Anne sighed. "And I didn't dance with you."

There was a curious smile that came over his drawn face. "Because you were jealous."

"Yes," she admitted softly. "I didn't want you to be with her that night."

"Why?"

Anne looked at his pale face in the dim light, a tear falling onto his pillow. Over and over she had examined the sensations then- she'd put the necklace on in her blue room, knowing he would see it. She'd planned to see him- she knew that on that night he would ask her to dance. They would talk, and something precious would mend- and Royal Gardner had no part in it. Something that had never been whole was broken once she pulled the lilies of the valley from the box- she should have known then.

The answer rose to her lips without effort. "Because I wanted you to be with me."

He licked dry lips and started as she held a cup of water out for him to sip again, supporting his head carefully. The intimacy of being so helpless before her had stopped being strange, instead, it was welcome. He looked up at her now, simply content to be held by her, supported by her in this infinitely precious moment.

In sickness and in health.

He swallowed. He would need to sleep again soon- but not before he had asked the most important question of all.

"Anne?"

"Yes?"

"Do you love me?"

Her face was so close to him, and he saw the tremble in her lips. "Yes. So- so very much, Gil."

The expression of wild joy that crossed his pale face at her words made her heart tremble. "Say it, Anne."

Anne's shaking hand came up to stroke his cheek, not even taking the time to consider that it was not as warm as it had been. She looked into his eyes, wanting him to read the truth in her own, and her voice came, clear and soft. "I love you, Gilbert Blythe. I have for years. I just didn't understand it till now."

Gilbert gazed up at her, breathing heavily. "How- how long?"

She smiled, choking back a sob. "I've been trying to figure it out- I haven't slept properly in days. And I think- I think that I have since you gave up the school for me." He watched her in shock, and she continued, her words falling over themselves. "Gilbert, I was so awful to you back then. And yet you were so bright and good, and forgiving, and loving- and you never reproached me for taking five years to do it. You took my hand- and everything changed for me. You know how I hurt when Matthew died- but then you were there. You were my beloved friend. And then I got to know you for myself- you were stubborn and kind, and frighteningly intelligent- you were so different to me, and somehow so much the same. You made me laugh again, and I- I told you things that I have never told anyone before." Her breath caught, and she closed her eyes in pain. "Gilbert, when you walked away from me in the orchard at Patty's Place- it broke my heart. I deserved it for breaking yours. I should have understood what it meant when the hurt never ended. Even with being so mistaken about Roy- I should- I should have known better-"

Gilbert was shaking and he found himself unable to speak. Her beautiful red head lay beside his, and her fingers clung to his hand so tightly. Cursing the weakness in his muscles, his breath faltered. How could this be? Anne Shirley was in his bedroom telling him that she loved him. She was, wasn't she? Was it another hallucination? His face clouded, and he shivered. When she moved to pull the blanket over him, he looked up at her in desperation.

"Anne, I can't stay awake- but I'm so afraid that you'll vanish as soon as I fall asleep again," he muttered, pleadingly. He moved toward her, his head falling onto the pillow, and she saw him grimace in frustration at his prone state, her heart bursting with tenderness. She knelt by his bed, so close to his face, and for the first time, one slim arm curled around his head, while the other touched his thin cheek.

"I'm here, my darling," she murmured. "Rest now. I'll be here when you wake."

His eyes were closing, but he forced them to open one more time. "Promise?"

She smiled wistfully. "I promise. You won't regret anything you said?"

His cheek twitched against the pillow, and for a moment his hazel eyes twinkled. "Promise."

Sonia came into the room just after midnight, to find Anne sitting on the floor, dozing against Gilbert's bed. She woke her gently, hustling the confused girl to the room across the hall to sleep, and prepared to take her place for the night. She placed a hand on her sleeping son's forehead and froze in shock. His forehead was cool, and there was a light blanket covering him- Anne must have placed it there. Sonia tucked him in once again, her mind moving furiously. He was asleep- not restlessly moving, not muttering. She placed a shaking hand on his abdomen, unable to feel the churning that had been there for so many weeks. She turned to the window, her hand over her mouth- was it possible- could it be over? With a shaking breath, she sat down in the chair, her eyes trained on her son. She wouldn't tell them, lest she was wrong- she would wait for the morning to see.

When morning came to Pinewood at last, Anne awoke to the sound of birds in the nearby apple trees. She could hear Gilbert's parents in the kitchen downstairs, and after throwing her robe on she quickly moved into Gilbert's room. The drapes were still closed, and she moved to his side, slipping down on her knees, searching his face anxiously. To her surprise, his eyes opened immediately, and he turned his head to meet her.

"Anne," he said breathlessly.

Her hands were shaking as she felt the coolness of his skin, saw that the clouded look that even yesterday had covered his face was gone. She looked at him in amazement, unable to speak.

"Anne? I think it's over," he whispered. "I think it's done."

She touched him gently, trying to ascertain if what he was saying was true, until his hand captured her own. She looked down at him, her lips trembling. "Gil, do you remember last night?"

His hazel eyes were suddenly anxious. "I told you- I told you that I loved you. And you said- I thought you said-"

"That I love you too."

He surprised her then by scowling, then, from his pillow. "Look, Anne, I know what I meant. I just need to be absolutely sure what you mean. I know that you- I know that you care about me. And especially since it looks like I nearly died-"

She shook her head, and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, before pushing his brown curls back to see his eyes. "I'm not just fond of you, Gil. And no, it's not about you almost dying," she said softly. "I love you like I will never love anyone else- I am only in love with you."

Sonia's step was slow as she came up the steps now with a tray for Anne. She placed it in her room, however, she wasn't surprised to find it empty. She walked across to the doorway of her son's room, to be met with a sight that would be with her until her dying day. Anne's arms surrounded the now-awake boy, whose head lay against her chest, a tear dropping down his gaunt cheek. She crooned to him as he lay there, whispering endearments that Sonia could not hear, and stroking the damp curls from Gilbert's forehead. John Blythe stepped behind her softly, swallowing hard and brushing a hand across his eyes. He moved from the doorway then, and Sonia turned to follow him, her throat suspiciously tight.

"Just five minutes. We really should give them five minutes to themselves."

Only three days after that joyous morning in the Blythe house, Gilbert was sitting up in bed when the doctor came, and his mother stood by his bedside, his hand in both of hers while the doctor pronounced him to be out of danger. Gilbert didn't need him to say it. He was still frail, his muscles so tired- but he was feeling better than he had in months.

"It was a close shave, son," Doctor Spencer had said to him gravely. "I hope this is a lesson for you- looking after yourself is not the same thing as existing. You need fresh air- exercise, good friends. Studying isn't worth giving your life over it. I trust you will look after yourself better next year."

Gilbert nodded, suppressing the brief shudder that the doctor's words created. Oh, he'd known at the time- he'd even been accused of being self-destructive by some of the other students. That it had been more than just a desire to win was something Gilbert would be keeping to himself- although no doubt Anne already knew.

Sonia wiped tears from her thin cheeks and proceeded to ask the doctor what the next few weeks would look like. She was given strict instructions to ease him back into regular eating again- she mustn't allow him to try too much, too soon- and exercise was only to be attempted after there had been no symptoms for two weeks.

Gilbert thanked the doctor, and then without looking at his mother, and a slight flush on his cheeks as he asked to speak to the doctor in private. Sonia looked slightly alarmed, however, she drew some comfort from Gilbert's slight smile, and left the patient and physician alone.

"I wondered if I might have a word," he said, slightly uncomfortable. "Err- you've not said how things might be in the future."

The doctor looked up from packing his bag, in some surprise. "You'll get better. It will take time, but if you are sensible and don't overdo, you should be back to normal by the start of August."

Gilbert nodded, however, there was a thoughtful frown on his face.

"You wanted to know something else?" Gilbert only scratched his head sheepishly, and the doctor gave him a piercing look. "Medical school in September, isn't it?" Gilbert nodded, and the older man closed his satchel with a snap. "You'll learn that it's best to not beat around the bush- call a spade a spade, and so forth. What do you want to know?"

Gilbert's flush was deep. "I only wondered if there would be any er- effect on me afterwards- it was a sustained fever. Should I be able to- err-"

"Have children?" Doctor Spencer asked coolly, rather enjoying seeing the younger man squirm at him putting it so bluntly. He smiled then. "I see no reason why not. I wouldn't borrow trouble if I were you, Gilbert."

Gilbert's consternation had not noticeably faded, and his cheeks burned in his pale face. "I just- I just haven't noticed- and I thought it odd- because she's- and I mean, it always-"

Suddenly catching on, the doctor hid his smile with a slight cough. "I'm- err- quite sure all will be well, soon, son. Might I suggest that you concentrate first on re-hydrating?" he said tactfully. "Necessary for all of us, really. Get plenty of fluids. I'll be keeping an eye on you for a few weeks yet, we can revisit this discussion if we need to, I think."

An embarrassed Gilbert nodded, his arms folded tightly. "Thank you, Doc."

There was silence then, and he picked up his bag. "You know, you're a lucky fellow, Gilbert. And so little Anne Shirley is to be your young lady?"

Gilbert's chuckled, then. "I- err, yes. Little?" he questioned.

Doctor Spencer snorted. "She was little when she first moved here- quite the scrawniest little thing you ever saw- and eyes as big as saucers, too. She does leave an impression on one. Have the two of you been together long?"

Gilbert ruffled his hair with a shame-faced laugh. "Well- it's been about seventy-two hours, actually."

The doctor grinned. "Ah. Early days then. Looks like we know why you pulled through."

"I don't doubt that." Gilbert cleared his throat and looked at the doctor intently. "So- alright. When can I kiss her?"

This did make the doctor laugh, and Sonia heard him from downstairs in the kitchen in some bemusement. "You've only just beaten typhoid, Gilbert, do you need to be in such a rush? Surely you'll have time once you are engaged."

Gilbert smiled dryly. "Oh, I will be. I've been waiting to do this for eleven, very long years. I would say it's been long enough."

Doctor Spencer moved to the door, a small smile on his face. "Well then, I would say give it- ahem- another week, and if your lady does not oppose the idea, I should consider that well and truly time."

There was a step on the stairs then, and Gilbert looked up with a deep flush on his cheeks to see Anne herself in a fresh dress, her arms full of books. Had she heard anything?

"Miss Shirley," the doctor greeted her with a smile. "It appears Mr Blythe has been waiting for you. Gilbert, do let me know how you go with- er, everything. I'll see myself out."

Anne said goodbye and turned back to Gilbert in surprise. "Did his behaviour seem a little odd to you, Gil? Doctor Spencer almost looked as if he was laughing."

Gilbert shrugged his shoulders with an innocent look. "Er- no. No idea."

Exactly one week later, Gilbert's father stood up with a hefty sigh, after helping his son downstairs for the first time to sit on the veranda outside. Sonia was taking the opportunity to clean his room, after the long weeks of illness, flinging windows wide open and stripping the room of all linen.

"It's good to be outside," Gilbert said with an echoing breath- "even if the effort to do it was ridiculous."

John grinned. "Get your breath back, Gil. I'm sure Anne will be along any time now- where was she this morning?"

Gilbert smiled. "Seeing her honorary nephew. Diana and Fred's baby is almost six weeks old now."

John chuckled. "Six weeks! Ah, soon she'll be running around after him- he'll be getting into scrapes like you used to. I tell you, parenthood is one grand adventure. I highly recommend it, if you are so inclined, son."

He walked away whistling, and Gilbert settled back into the comfortable chair with a grin. July was halfway through- and in only six weeks both he and Anne would be back at work again. For one brief moment there was a misgiving in his heart at the thought of three years apart- and then he pushed that thought away. They would wait, they would work. And in the meantime, it was time to begin living again.

Half an hour later, Anne herself came through the back door, wearing a green dress that he had once told her at a Redmond reception that he had liked especially. She brought the fresh breeze with her, and he smiled at the way she dropped into the chair beside him.

"Isn't it a glorious day, Gil? Marilla insisted that if I was going to Diana's and here that I had better take the wagon- and I think Clara was glad to escape her stall in any case. Your father insisted on putting her in the field with your horses- she hasn't had company since Matthew's horse died."

Gilbert smiled. As per propriety, Anne had gone home as soon as the fever had dropped away, and he was now being forced to share her with the rest of the world again- ensuring that he would spend every waking moment attempting to aid his recovery, to be able to keep up with her once more. On the first night without her, he had looked wistfully at the chair in his room for quite some time, wondering how just a few weeks had changed everything so dramatically for them. Missing her red head, her smile and the way she supported him.

He now looked up at the girl he loved, forcing himself to take in a steadying breath. Now, it should be now. He'd forced himself to not kiss her goodbye when she left him alone for the first time, although she had looked at him so wistfully. When she returned in the morning, bright eyed and carrying the scent of the woods with her she ran to his bedside, taking his hand in hers immediately. She came bringing treats from Marilla and Mrs Lynde for the family, and on the day he first came downstairs she was sitting beside him when he received his first visitors. Really, it was all going swimmingly well.

For the first few days after the fever ended, the two of them had begun to talk over the past two years. Misunderstandings that had been unwittingly helped along by others, the jealousy that had managed to twist their own perceptions of reality, and the attempt to catch the other up on what they had experienced over the years they had been apart. Mrs Blythe had come in with food and clean sheets from time to time, carrying washcloths or blankets, and she was never quite sure what state she would find the young couple. She had interrupted heated arguments at the top of their lungs and was bewildered by the fact that they would simply stop, chat amiably and continue when she left the room. John had only chuckled, saying that there were bound to be things that needed clearing up- they would manage to find a way.

On this day, Anne's grey eyes roamed the hills that stretched beyond the Blythe farm, her hand in his. He looked down to see her slender fingers wrapped around his own and was hit with a wave of euphoria that was only balanced by a sudden anxiety. They- he- had a second chance, now. How could he make sure he didn't blow it? He lifted his other hand to wipe a rather clammy forehead, uneasily wondering if Anne was as aware as he was of the need for a certain conversation. They had been together constantly, content to simply recover day by day, and no discussion had yet been broached about the future.

Something of his tension must have shown in the way he held her hand tightly, and after a minute, Anne turned to him with a puzzled look on her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked him quietly. When he fumbled to speak, panic flashed into her face at the too bright hazel eyes, the glistening of sweat on his brow, and the way his hand shook, and Anne moved to kneel at his feet, her eyes enormous as cool hands touched his face anxiously.

"Gil, you're too warm out here- are you feeling quite well? Do you feel ill? Why didn't you tell someone? I'll go and get your mother-"

As she stood to go, Gilbert quickly and decisively reached out to pull her into his lap. "Wait, Anne, I feel perfectly well."

"Gilbert, I'll crush you! You mustn't do this-"

He frowned at her sternly. "Anne, stop fussing. I ate porridge this morning. I'm getting fitter every day. Have some faith that my bones are up to the challenge- and besides, you're as light as a feather."

Anne's cheeks were pink. "Be that as it may, this can't be good for you. And why are you so distracted then?"

He sighed, making her laugh as she slipped down beside him again. "It's just that I needed to talk to you. About- about the future."

Anne's cheeks grew rosy again, and she stumbled over her words. "Oh- I- oh."

He grinned, his arms surrounding her easily. "See? I'm not the only one who is nervous about this." He drew in a deep breath, moving back to see her. "Anne, I realise this is a bit backwards," he admitted slowly. "You- you don't start a relationship by spending several days and nights together- even if it was closer to being a deathbed than anything romantic." Anne flushed, and almost made to move in her embarrassment, however, Gilbert held her waist gently. "You were there for me at my lowest point- I wouldn't have chosen for you to see that. But you have no idea how much I needed you then. I'm so thankful that you came. But it's not exactly what I dreamed it would be." He didn't see her face pale, and continued softly. "I would have liked to ask you if I could see you- I would go on walks with you, and we would talk about everything and nothing. I would bring you flowers, and we would just be together."

Anne's grey eyes were fixed on him, her arms shyly slipping around his neck. "I think we had several years just like that, Gil."

He touched his forehead to her cheek. "We did. And then one day I would have told you that I loved you- that I wanted you to marry me."

Anne's brow creased, and she touched his cheek with a trembling hand. "You did that too," she said huskily. "And I didn't- I wasn't- Gilbert, I'm so very sorry."

Gilbert shook his head, tipping her face up to meet her eyes. "Maybe it had to happen," he said, the shadow nevertheless visible on his face. "But I'm more concerned with what is happening now."

As the sparrows chirped in the apple trees, there was a tense silence between them, and Anne swallowed. "Well, I've never spent a night in a man's bedroom before. I've never been held this way before, either, Mr Blythe," she said in a low voice, her face heating. "I'm wondering if the fact that I'm not protesting will tell you something."

His mouth twitched into something resembling a smile, and his breath caught. "I'm sorry, Anne, I'm just nervous. I only ever planned to do this once- and I certainly never planned to do it when I was in this condition."

She smiled at him, shaking her head with swimming eyes. "You're alive, Gil. That's all that matters to me."

"And I realise that while we exchanged words of love over a deathbed-"

Anne scowled then. "You're exaggerating, Gil. I can assure you that you are quite alive."

Gilbert continued as if she hadn't interrupted him. "-But I wanted you to know now that what you want is more important to me than anything. I- I can't lose you again."

Anne rested her forehead against his, her hands on his face. "You won't."

He drew in a shaking breath. "I have nothing to offer you right now- apart from the excellent bone structure that you see," he said with an attempt at levity. "I have three years of medical school to go- I can't give you the next three years together, however much I want to, and even then I can't offer you diamond sunbursts, or marble halls-"

Anne stopped him when she shook her head. "Wherever you are is a palace to me, Gil," she said softly.

He smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart. I can offer you a heart that has been yours entirely for years. I never stopped loving you. And I want to build a life with you now." He drew in a long breath and held on to her waist tightly. "I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne," he said, his voice shaking. "And I'm asking it again today. Will you- will you be my wife?"

To his relief she only pulled him closer, breaking into a sweet laugh. "Gil, do you really think I could say anything but yes?"

Gilbert snorted indelicately. "Look, after all this, I admit that I'd feel lot better with a good, solid 'yes'-"

"Yes, then." She beamed at him with tears in her eyes, and he snatched her close with a laugh of triumph. After only a moment he pulled away, his hands stroking up and down her slender arms. His thin face was beaming, and he watched her in adoration as she smiled at him. He stilled then, pulling her closer. "There's one other piece of business," he said, his eyes alight with anticipation, reaching to tuck a red curl behind her ear. She didn't have time to ask him what- because his broad hands cupped her face, and he pulled her close to kiss her, his hazel eyes sliding shut as he felt her soft lips tentatively open to kiss him back. His hands were shaking when he pulled away from her, staring into the beautiful eyes that were at their most green.

"Anne, what if you hadn't come?" he whispered, trembling. "I wouldn't even be here-"

Anne sat back, her eyes blazing. "Of course you would- you're stronger than anyone I know, Gil. You were going to come through this, no matter what- and who knows what would have happened?"

He gave a slight chuckle then. "I suppose it's a romantic notion that we need someone else to survive, isn't it?" He brought himself close to her, his nose touching hers. "But I don't care. I do need you."

Anne smiled, closing her eyes at the sensation of being held close by the man she loved. "And I need you. Gil?"

"Mmm?" he replied dreamily, studying the pretty nose so close to his own.

"Stop studying my freckles and kiss me," she whispered, moving close to catch his laughter with her lips.