Hello dear readers! I felt like it was about time I paid tribute to my pen name and wrote a story (or two) about my very favorite literary couple. This will be a series of one-shot chapters at various points in Anne and Gilbert's married life together. They will be posted in no particular order and updates will likely be sporadic. I don't own Anne of Green Gables, and if I did, I wouldn't have changed a thing. Enjoy and review if you are so inclined. Cheers! -RMBlythe

Chapter One: The Doctor's Son

Anne was abruptly awoken by the sound of the telephone ringing shrilly throughout the house. She felt Gilbert shift in their bed, kissing her regal nose and whispering, "I'll get it. Go back to sleep, Anne-girl."

Listening to her husband make his way down the stairs to answer the telephone, she snuggled back down into their soft bed, and was about to do as Gilbert suggested, until she heard him say, "What? No, Jem, calm down, son. Take a deep breath. I can't understand you."

A cold and unwelcome feeling of dread settled over Anne. Call it what you will, a mother's intuition perhaps, but she knew something was terribly, dreadfully wrong. As Rachel Lynde would have said, she could feel it in her bones. Slipping into her house shoes and pulling on her dressing robe, Anne rushed down stairs.

"Alright. Now tell me what's happened, Jem?" Gilbert asked, looking up at his wife as she came down the stairs. Her grey eyes were full of questions he didn't know how to answer.

Anne searched her husband's face intently for any clue as to what was happening. But, ever the professional, Gilbert's expression gave away nothing as he listened patiently to Jem. Finally, he nodded and said, "Yes, of course. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone with a slight tremor to his hand, his composure threatening to break.

"Gil?"

He sighed deeply. "Apparently, Walt was sick this morning, but Jem and Faith didn't think much of it. Now he has a raging fever they can't get to come down."

Anne's hand flew to rest over her heart, pounding painfully slow within it's cage. "Oh no, the poor dear."

Gilbert nodded, climbing the stairs and taking her hand, going back to their bedroom to change clothes. "I'll send word to you first thing tomorrow morning to let you know how things are," Gilbert said as he hastily pulled on the clothes he had worn the day before.

"Gilbert Blythe, if you think I'm going to stay here while that precious child is ill, you are sadly mistaken."

Turning to face his wife, he was surprised to see her already dressed with her fading red hair haphazardly pulled back. The sight was almost enough to make him laugh, despite the worry that had settled in his heart. Before he could make some sort of a reply, Anne looked him in the eye and said, "You may very well be his doctor, Gilbert Blythe, but I am his grandmother! Now come, there's not a moment to lose."

A knock at the door was what finally tore Jem away from his son's side, Walter's pitiful cries drowning out his mother's attempts at comfort, as he made his way down the stairs.

He opened the front door and nearly wept with relief when he saw his father. "Dad," he sighed wearily, "oh thank Heaven! Come in, please. Faith is upstairs with Walt."

Gilbert nodded, placing a strong supportive hand on Jem's shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze. He immediately went upstairs to the nursery. But when Jem saw Anne, he felt like nothing more than a child himself. "Mother."

Anne smiled softly and stepped closer to pull him into an embrace, holding her grown up son close to her heart. "My little Jem."

"It's a relief you're here. Thank you for coming."

She kissed his cheek before releasing her hold on him. "I'll put on some coffee. You go on and help your father. Everything will be alright, my darling."

Jem nodded, taking the stairs two at a time, his heart now resting a bit easier than it had been before.

Hours later, when the morning sun was high in the sky, Walt slept comfortably, the two best doctors in Glen St. Mary watching over him. He lay in his crib, his grandfather rubbing his bare back in soothing patterns, satisfied with the temperature of his soft skin. "I can't ever thank you enough, Dad," Jem offered softly.

"Don't think of it," Gilbert smiled, nodding to his daughter-in-law, fast asleep in the rocking chair, a hand resting on her rounded middle where his next grandchild grew. "I'm only glad Faith is finally resting. I worried for her condition, but she's as stubborn as your mother."

"Don't I know it," Jem chuckled. His face then turned quite serious. "Dad, I never told you, but… I'm sorry. About Walter."

Gilbert's smile vanished as he looked up from the crib, to his son. "Jem, that," he stopped and cleared his throat, shaken by the memories that would never fade with time. "You've nothing to be sorry for. That was not your fault."

"I know that now, but, I've never thought of how it must've been for you. When Walter was sick, and then…" After all these years, he still could not bring himself to say it. But Gilbert knew. "I never dreamed how it would feel. But Dad, when Walt was sick, and he was crying and in pain… Faith was rocking him, and I… There was nothing I could do. I felt so helpless. All the studying and practice to become a doctor, and I couldn't help him. I couldn't take the pain away. What was it all for if I can't even help my own son?"

Gilbert reached across the crib and placed his hand over Jem's. "I asked myself the same questions when Walter was ill. And when you both were away, some days there was nothing I wanted more than to be fighting by your side. To look for you myself when you went missing. Then after, I thought I'd drive myself mad wondering if… if I could've saved him, had I been there."

"Dad, there was nothing you could've done."

"No, I know. I know that now," Gilbert nodded solemnly. "Jem, we're doctors. We do what we can, and the rest is up to Providence. It's taken me a long time to learn that. A very long time. And you will never feel as though you've done enough, especially when it comes to your family." Jem looked down at Walt, stroking his bright red hair. Gilbert walked over to him, and he turned to face his father. Gilbert gripped his son's shoulders. "But you are never, ever alone. You call anytime you need me. And I'd be honored to be able to consult you on some of my cases as well. You're a good father, and a good doctor."

Jem nodded and Gilbert wrapped his arms around him in a fierce embrace. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, Jem."

There was a brief knock at the door, and Anne toed her way into the room. Gilbert had a feeling his wife had seen more than she would let on. "I've brought breakfast," she smiled, setting a large tray of oatmeal and coffee on a small table. She caught sight of Faith then. "Oh Heavens, Jem take that sweet girl and put her to bed."

Jem nodded with a smirk. "I will." He woke his wife gently, only enough to scoop her up into his arms and carry her off to their room.

Anne looked to Gilbert. "Are you alright?"

He reached his hand out to her, and she took it in her own. "Perfectly fine, Anne-girl," he smiled. "Perfectly fine."