A/N: Thank you for finding this story. It is a continuation of the Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy. This is book I of three. Book II is Fifty Shades…Clarity and book III is Fifty Shades…Full Circle.

Disclaimer: This is an interpretation of copyrighted original material. The original characters of Fifty Shades of Grey are owned by E.L. James. The original content, ideas, characters and intellectual property of this story are owned by Nuwriter, as of 2012. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rated M for adult language and situations.


Chapter 1

Oh, my God this feels so good. The warm sun beats down on my body warming my skin, my bones, relaxing me. And the quiet. This is bliss. I am sitting on a chaise on the patio just outside the glass wall, facing the lake. The sun is dancing off of the water like twinkling stars and the soft warm breeze and smell of the sea is heaven. But most of all, it's the quiet. Christian is still at work, Teddy isn't home from school yet and I have put Grace down for her afternoon nap. Finally a brief moment just for me.

I'm worried. I don't know what's been wrong with me lately. I seem to cry all the time. I cry at the drop of a hat. I think I would cry at a bowl of cold oatmeal, given the opportunity. It's driving Christian crazy. He's constantly asking me what is wrong and I can't tell him, because I don't know, myself. It's making him mad as hell, but then, Christian is always mad.

I close my eyes, turn my mind off and let myself drift. The past 7 years have been a whirlwind. Not the direction I ever imagined my life would take. Who would have ever thought that within one short summer I would meet, lose my virginity to and marry the man of my dreams becoming ridiculously wealthy? Then become an editor at a major publishing house, get pregnant and give birth to the perfect child, and have that horrendous episode with Jack Hyde. But then, that is what my life has been like with Christian Grey. Never a dull moment. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a dull moment.

I'm so tired and a short nap would certainly improve my outlook on things. I let the soft breeze and lapping water sounds take my mind to thoughts of Escala and the Red Room of Pain. Thinking about my early days with Christian brings a faint smile to my face. This is bliss. It is so quiet. Shit, too quiet. Wait a minute, I haven't heard a peep out of Grace and she should be awake and screaming by now. Much as I hate to get up, I need to go check on her. Now I don't like the quiet.

As I enter Grace's room the afternoon sun is picking up on all the soft pink and pale yellow in the room. It's so very girly. My eyes trail over all the stuffed animals and dolls to her crib. Her small pink comforter is crumpled up in the center of the crib and as I peek in…..oh my God, where is Grace! She's not in her crib. Where in the world could she possibly be? My chest tightens and my heart is beating out of my chest. Shit. My daughter, where is she? "Grace", I call out loudly. "Grace, baby. Where are you?" "Carla Grace, answer me." I run out of her room and down the hall calling her name and I stop when I get to the door of the bedroom that I share with Christian. There in the middle of the floor sits my baby girl, quiet as a mouse. What is she doing in here? I run to her and bend down to pick her up and when she turns and looks up at me, I'm horrified. There sits my precious baby girl with flamingo pink lipstick all over her face, her tee shirt, her hands and the carpet. "Mama", she squeals as she looks up at me, with an ear to ear grin exposing the few teeth that she has acquired over her almost two years. Do I laugh or do I cry?

I pick her up and pull her to me squeezing her and kissing the flamingo pink off of her face. All I can do is smile at her and kiss her chubby little pink cheeks. Christian isn't going to be happy about the carpet. Oh, well. He'll get over it. As long as Grace has done it, it won't matter to him. She can do no wrong in his eyes. Christian loves Teddy, but he absolutely adores his little girl. And he should, she is just like him, bless her poor little heart. She is a clone of me, chestnut curls all over her head, a little pink pout of a mouth, those large blue/gray eyes surrounded by dark lashes. But her temperament is all Christian. I do believe she came out of the womb with a frown on her face, stamping her little feet and saying, "no".

Teddy on the other hand is a carbon copy of Christian. That copper hair, those gray eyes and as he gets older, he is losing that toddler look and becoming a tall, slender, athletic little boy. But he is such a gentle, kind child. He is thoughtful and smart. He is a pleasure to be around and I love him so. I never knew I could love so much, until these two munchkins came into our lives.

I never knew Christian had such a capacity to love until the kids came. I don't think he ever thought that he could love anyone like this. And he has been such a good father. He takes time with them, he reads to them, bathes them, and he gets on the floor and rolls around with them. I remember when he taught Teddy how to swim last summer, his patience with him was limitless. The man does have his good points from time to time. My fifty can always bring a smile to my face.

"Well little girl, I think we had better get you cleaned up, before your daddy gets home. Do you want a bubble bath?" Grace's eyes widen and she smiles and claps her hands. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's go run a tub of water."

As the tub is filling and the clouds of bubbles are getting bigger and bigger, I am pulling Grace's tee shirt off over her head, I hear the front door slam and a whirlwind come running up the stairs. "Looks like Teddy are home, Grace."

"Mommy, Mommy."

"I'm up here Teddy." My copper haired boy runs through the door and into the bathroom. "Mommy, look."

"What is it sweetheart?" what could possibly have him so wound up? He holds out a piece of paper with a drawing of an I-don't-know-what-some-kind-of-animal on it.

"Look what I drew today and I got an 'A" on it."

"That's wonderful, Baby." How can I tell him I have no idea of what it is, without breaking his heart? "Tell me about the picture, while I get Grace in the tub".

"What happened to her?' Teddy asks, frowning and looking at Grace with amazement.

"Oh, just a make-up experiment gone wrong," I tell him. "Now tell me about the picture. "

"Well, it's a picture of Walter", he tells me.

"Wonderful. Who is Walter?" I ask him while lathering Grace up.

"He is the rabbit at school." Ted informs me. "And guess what?"

I smile up at him as reply, "I can't even imagine. What."

"I get to bring him home and keep him over the summer break. Isn't that neat?"

Well, crap. The smile leaves my face, but it seems to mean so much to him. "That's wonderful, Baby. I know you'll do a good job of taking care of him." That means I'll have done a good job of taking care of him. Maybe I can convince Gail to do a good job of taking care of him. Whatever.

"Sweetie, your Dad will be home in a while. Why don't you go to your room and put your school stuff away, while I finish cleaning Grace up."

"Okay, Mom."

"That's my good boy." And heaven knows he is my good boy.

As I pull Grace out of the tub and wrap her in a fluffy white towel, trying to get her dry, I plant a quick kiss on her little button of a nose. To be such a terror, she is pretty cute. I wasn't able to get all the lipstick off without taking off a layer of her skin, so a few faint pink stripes remain on her face. It reminds me of a time I tried to wash red lipstick off of Christian after we drew the road map on his body. My guide of where to touch and where not to touch. We have come so far. My sweet, dear Fifty lets I touch him where ever I want to, now, and often.

"Ana".

Oh dear he's home early, and I don't have this mess cleaned up yet. "We're up here, Christian." I yell back to him.

Moments later my husband walks into the bathroom. I look up at him and my goodness is he gorgeous. He is dressed in a soft gray suit, with a crisp white shirt and a charcoal tie. His slacks hang at his hips in that way that drives me insane. He just gets better and better looking. How do men do that? "Mr. Grey, you're home early".

"Got out of my meetings early and just decided to come home to see my beautiful wife, Mrs. Grey".

"You may want to rethink the beautiful part. I'm afraid it's been quite a day. I must be a sight, Mr. Grey".

"Yes, and what a sight it is Mrs. Grey. My favorite sight. My two beautiful girls. Doesn't get any better than this."

Christian leans down and places a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips and then kisses his favorite daughter on her chestnut curls. He loosens his tie and turns to go back into the bedroom to change, when he stops in his tracks and stares at the explosion of pink flamingos on the bedroom floor.

"What the hell happened in here?" he bellows.

"Christian! Please. Watch your language around Grace. You know she repeats everything you say."

"Yeah. Okay. But what happened in here?"

Well, here goes. "I had put Grace down for her nap and was spending a few moments on the patio. When I noticed it was past time for her to be up, I came up to check on her and she had somehow climbed out of her crib."

"She did what? How did she get out of the crib?"

"Christian, I don't know. She's never done it before. I guess it's about time to get her a big girl bed. Anyway, when I got up stairs and found her, she was sitting in the floor and, evidentially, had gotten one of the lipsticks off of my dresser and had painted herself and the carpet with flamingo pink." I hand our towel clad daughter to her father and he checks her over assessing the damage.

His eyes narrow and he looks at me with disbelief on his face. "Ana. How could you let this happen?"

I knew this wasn't going to go well. "Christian, I'll have the carpet cleaners out to get it taken care of. Don't worry. It will be fine."

"Ana. I don't give an F…." My eyes glare at him. We don't need that word whirling around in our daughter's little head. "I don't care about the carpet. I can replace the carpet. Hell, I'll just buy a new house, if the carpet won't come clean."

"Then what's the problem, Christian?" I ask him with resignation that he is so upset. I knew it would go down like this. It always does. He can get so mad at me.

"It's Grace. How could you be so careless to leave her alone like that? She could have been hurt while you were napping on the patio. Why weren't you watching her more carefully?"

"Christian, she was only alone for a few moments and she is fine."

"That's not the point, Ana. She could have gotten in to more than lipstick. She could have fallen down the stairs, or hurt herself climbing out of that crib. How can you be so careless? I can't be here all day to make sure things run smoothly at the house. That's your job. That's why you quite work to take care of our children. Can't you even do that correctly?"

Tears fill my eyes and I feel them spill down my cheeks. "Christian, please don't yell at me. How can you question the way I take care of the children? "

"Why are you crying again?" He looks at me in exasperation.

"I don't know. Yes I do. You are always mad at me. It seems like you have been mad at me for the last 7 years. What do I do to make you so mad?"

Christian calms a bit and exhales, "Ana, Baby, I stay mad at everyone. It's what I do." He holds Grace in one arm and put his other arm around my waist and pulls me to him.

"Well, I'm tired of you being mad at me, Christian. I'm just over it. It's got to stop."

"What do you mean?"

As I reach for my daughter, I tell him, "Here give Grace to me. I need to get her clothes on."

Christian kisses my hair and then bends to kiss the tears on my cheeks and says,"I'll get her dressed, Baby. You take some time to calm down and relax a bit."

I smile up at him, "I'll take you up on that Mr. Grey." I plop myself down on the oversized King bed that I share with Christian and stare at the ceiling. I can't seem to stop the tears. What is wrong with me? Christian has calmed down. Everything is fine, I tell myself. But tears continue to creep down my cheeks. I turn over on my side and pull my knees up to my chest and curl into a little ball. I drift off as the tears seep out of my eyes.