Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Anne!” Gilbert called, running toward the gaggle of girls, raising an arm in a hailing wave.  Diana, Ruby and Anne both turned around so quickly they all bumped into each other.

Anne stared up at the taller boy, who had come to a skidding stop. “Gilbert.”  She said, a bit breathlessly, as though she had been the one running. “Hello.” She added when Diana quite obviously nudged her.  “Can I help you with something?”

“Ah, yes, you can, actually.” Gilbert said, a nervous smile on his face. “I, well I have that dish Miss Cuthbert lent me.  You know, when she brought by dinner the other day.”

Anne blinked. “Right.  Well, I would be more than happy to bring it home with me, thank you Gilbert.”  She looked at his bag expectantly, like she thought the dish might fall out that exact second.

“I had hoped to give it back in person,” Gilbert looked down at Anne hopefully, though Anne seemed oblivious to it. “So I wondered if I could walk you home?”

Anne's eyes widened in surprise. “I was going to walk with Diana and Ruby-”

“Actually,” Diana cut in, grabbing Ruby by the arm and pulling her away, ignoring the smaller girl's indignant “Hey!” “Ruby and I were just about to go in the opposite direction.”

“No you weren't.” Anne said flatly.

“No we weren't.” Ruby said at precisely the same time

“Well we are now!” Diana returned, cheerfully, casting Ruby a significant look. “Come on, Ruby.  I have something very important to discuss with you.”

“Well,” Gilbert clapped his hands together, smiling. “Looks like that's all settled.”  He stepped up to her side, waving his arm out in front of them in invitation. “Shall we?”

“I have never felt more betrayed in my entire life.”  Anne said, miserably, beginning what she was sure would be a very awkward trek back to Green Gables.

It irked her more than she cared to admit when Gilbert only chuckled and followed after her, matching her steps easily so they stayed side by side.

“Marilla certainly knows how to make a good stew.”  Gilbert said after a few minutes of silence. “Bash and Mary are the particular ones, and they loved it.”

“Marilla makes the most scrumptious meals to ever grace Avonlea.”  Anne agreed, not meeting the boy’s eye.

“You're lucky you get to learn from her.”  He said, sounding a bit wistful. It hit Anne that Gilbert no longer had any parental figures to learn from, and it twisted something in her heart.  How was it fair that, in the time Anne had been provided with so much happiness and good luck, Gilbert had gone through so much loss and hardship?

Anne sometimes fell into the trap of thinking that no bad thing could really happen in Avonlea.  Everything usually worked out so well, in the end, and she, being no stranger to hardship herself, preferred to focus on the good things life had chosen to give her instead of dwelling too deeply on the bad.  The idea that Gilbert might not have had the same luxury, that he had to take responsibility for everything in his life at such a young age, with no one there to guide him, was an unwelcome one to Anne,

“But surely Bash and Mary have much to teach you,”  Anne said, scrabbling for something to say. “They have such different experiences, I’m certain their different perspectives must be ever so valuable to you.”

Gilbert’s eyes crinkled as her smiled, a small, fond thing that did strange things to Anne’s stomach. “True enough,” he agreed, easily.  “Bash definitely has strong opinions on some things.”

Anne laughed, but her smile dimmed when she saw the wistful look in his eyes hadn’t disappeared completely.  “It isn’t the same, though, is it?”

Gilbert’s lips quirked in a sad little grin. “No,” he said, softly. “It isn’t.  It’s strange, but I sort of miss having someone around to tell me what to do.”

“Well,” Anne reached for his arm, squeezing it in what she hoped was a comforting, friendly way, and tried to will away the blush that rose up on her face when she met his eyes. “If you ever feel the need to hear some parental nagging, Marilla has become wonderfully suited to the task.  There’s really no one better if you need a good nag,” then Anne’s brows crinkled as a thought hit her. “Except, perhaps, for Mrs. Lynde, of course.”

A warm, rumbling laugh escaped from Gilbert’s lips then, surprised and happy.  His expression was completely transformed by a true smile, and Anne couldn’t help but smile back.

She spent the rest of the walk home quite unable to stifle her grin, though she couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why.  It was easier and easier these days to spend most of her time smiling with Gilbert Blythe. She was reluctant to persue that particular train of thought.

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“Gilbert Blythe is walkin’ you home now, is he?”  Matthew asked, brow raised.

Anne turned as red as her hair. “It was a one time thing so he could thank Marilla personally for her wondrous home cooked meal and return our dish.”  She sniffed, trying to sound as dignified as she possibly could.

“I see.” Matthew said, in a way that made Anne believe that he did not see at all.

She opened her mouth.  Then closed it. Then opened and closed it a few more times for good measure. “I'm going to help Marilla with dinner now.”  She said at last.

Matthew made a strange sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh as she walked out of the barn with as much grace as she could possibly muster.  

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The second time Gilbert walked Anne home, she really should have said no, and it was entirely her own fault that she didn’t.

“I have those books for Jerry.  I promised I'd bring them by a while ago, but it got so busy at home what with Mary moving in, that it totally slipped my mind.”

Anne, now wise to his game, looked at him suspiciously.  “And, I suppose, you want to give them to him personally.”

Gilbert had the good grace to look slightly abashed, but his smile stayed as warm and genuine as ever.  Anne suspected that girls likely gave him whatever he wanted when he smiled like that. “Well, I did promise.”

Anne sighed. “Come on then.”  She readjusted her grip on her books, and set off. Gilbert easily caught up, then shortened his stride to match hers.  “Jerry is usually still working for at least a few hours after I get out of school. You should catch him in plenty of time.”

Gilbert grinned.  “Great.”

Anne tried to ignore the looks Diana and Ruby gave her as she walked, side by side, with a very happy looking Gilbert Blythe.  Diana had some rather ridiculous ideas about Gilbert that Anne tried her hardest not to entertain while he was so close. Judging by the crestfallen look on Ruby’s face, Anne was worried she had come to similar conclusions.

“So,” Gilbert asked, drawing out the word like he was searching for something to say.  Anne could sympathize. Her characteristic eloquence had entirely deserted her in the moment.  “How’s Jerry’s reading coming along?”

“Good.  Really good.  He’s, uh, coming along splendidly.”

Gilbert nodded.  “Good. Great. That’s uh…”

“Great?” Anne offered when her trailed off.  His eyes snapped to hers, and both their lips twitched in time.  Then they were both laughing, at themselves, at the last few, awkward, minutes.

“Yeah,” Gilbert agreed, a smile still on his face.  It was like something had shifted between them, and whatever silly block had made them hold back was gone. “Exactly.  I’m glad he’s doing so well. You must be proud of his progress.”

Anne looked away, a bit bashful. “It’s mostly been Matthew helping him, if I’m honest.  But I am happy to see him making such rapid progress.” Her mouth twisted to the side. “Never tell him I told you that.”

He laughed, shaking his head.  “Why not? I thought you liked complimenting your friends.”

“I’ve told you before, he’s less of a friend, and more of an irritant Matthew and Marilla insist I put up with.” She grumbled.

“You have a strange way of making friends.” Gilbert mused, looking fond, exasperated, and confused in equal measure.

Anne snorted.  “I suppose you would know,” she said, easily.  “I did hit you with a slate when we first met.”

“Broke it right over my head.” He agreed, goodnaturedly.  “Practically shattered it.”

“It cracked,” Anne sniffed. “ Barely .” Gilbert laughed again, which only made Anne roll her eyes. “And people call me dramatic.”

“I deserved it,” he said, ever a peacemaker.  “I did pull your braid.”

“You also called me ‘Carrots’,” she said, casting him a teasingly haughty look. “Which, I will have you know, is the most egregious offense.”

Gilbert’s brows drew together. “Really?  That was more offensive than the hair pulling?”

“Name calling is never nice, Gilbert Blythe.”

Gilbert only chuckled in response, and Anne rolled her eyes, biting down on a fond smile.

They walked on in silence for several minutes, easy and companionable.  Occasionally, Gilbert would catch her eye, and Anne found herself smiling every time as she looked away, too quickly to see the same smile echoed on Giblet’s face.  It was strange. Normally Anne felt the need to fill up any silence with chatter, but Gilbert seemed to foster within her a stillness she wasn’t used to.

“I am sorry about that, by the way,” Gilbert said, after a while, voice soft so as not to break the quiet that had settled around them.

Anne blinked.  “What?”

“About the hair pulling,” he blushed, scratching the back of his neck as he looked away. “And the name calling.”

“I’m not sure you have to apologize, since I hit you with a slate, and I’m not the least bit sorry for it.” Anne said, and was pleased when she saw Gilbert's lips quirk up into a smile.

“Well, I am.  Sorry, I mean.  I don’t think I ever got the chance to say it, but I am.”

Anne opened her mouth to respond, but was caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. “Thank you, Gilbert.” She said, instead.

“You’re welcome,” he said, a playfulness coming into his eyes.  “Honestly, I’m a little surprised you accepted so easily. I thought I might have to work more for your forgiveness.”

Anne laughed.  “I’m totally capable of being reasonable, you know. But if you do feel the need to atone, I believe I have the perfect penance in mind.”

“And what is it Miss Anne Shirley-Cutthburt of Green Gables would have me do?”

“Tell me a story,” Anne said, with all the pomp and regality of a queen commanding a subject.  

Gilbert chuckled. “A story?”

“Yes, but it must be a good one, or I’m afraid I can never forgive your transgressions.”

“We couldn’t have that.  I’ve spent far too long trying to get into your good graces.”  Gilbert was looking at her queerly, like he had stopped playing their game, and was being entirely serious.  It made Anne’s cheeks heat.

“Your story, Blythe.”  Anne said, pleased when her voice came out steady.

“Of course.  Though I’m afraid I’m not as creative as you,” Gilbert teased, and Anne was relieved the conversation had returned to its previous rhythm.  “Can it be a true story?”

“True stories are not usually terribly romantic,” Anne lamented.  “But I suppose if it’s the best you can do…”

Gilbert opened his mouth, looking like he did in class, when he wanted to argue a point with her, but closed it again, and smirked.  “Have I told you about the time Bash and I ended up lost in a jungle for nearly two days?”

Anne’s eyes widened, eagerly, already caught with the promise of a good story.  “No, what happened?”

She was so enthralled with his story, she didn’t even notice they had stopped at her gate about halfway through, and she was so caught up talking to him, she hardly noticed how long they had been standing there.

Until Jerry stood in front of them, clearing his throat unnecessarily loud.  “Ah, pardon ?”

Anne jumped and Gilbert blinked at the sudden intrusion.

“The gate,” Jerry awkwardly gestured at them.  “You’re standing in front of it.” When neither of them seemed to understand what he was getting at, the boy let out a beleaguered sigh.  “It’s time for me to go home, and you are in my way.”

“Oh!” Gilbert exclaimed, jumping away from the gate, his ears turning red. “Sorry.”

“I’m not,” Anne said, dryly. “You could have asked us to move.”

Jerry looked unbothered.  “I did.”

“You could have asked nicely .”  Anne said, folding her arms as she narrowed her eyes at the boy.

Jerry gave her a strange look.  “I did. Lots of times.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

The farm hand’s eyes darted to Gilbert.  “That is obvious.”

Anne blushed at the implication, and Gilbert seemed eager to change the subject.  “Actually, I’m glad you’re here, Jerry.”

Jerry looked very skeptical at that.  “You are?”

“I brought these for you,” Gilbert said, holding out the books Anne had completely forgotten he had brought.  “They’re those grammar books I was telling you about.”

“Thanks,” Jerry said, a bit flatly, as he took them from Gilbert, shifting them in his arms as he stared at the older boy. “This is-” he looked down at them, and a small, genuine smile appeared on his face. “This is great, actually.”

Gilbert smiled,exchanging a glance with Anne, looking slightly relieved.  “I’m glad you like them. Feel free to keep them for as long as you like.”

“Alright,”  Jerry didn’t seem to know what to do with Gilbert's unfailing politeness, looking back and forth between Anne and the older boy like he was puzzling something out.  “Thank you.”

Gilbert looked up at the sky, where the sun was distinctly lower than it had been when they had first set off.  He looked surprised, like he hadn’t realized the time at all. “I should-” he gestured behind him. “Bash and Mary are probably wondering where I am.”

“Of course,” Anne said, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment when she realized he meant to leave.  “Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

He nodded, a soft expression coming across his face.  “Well, bye, Anne.”

Anne nodded back, drawing herself up.  “Goodbye Gilbert.”

With another nod, and a bashful smile, Gilbert waved goodbye, and set off back in the direction of his home.  Anne watched him go, though she hadn’t strictly given her eyes permission to do that.

“Ugh,” Jerry complained.  “I’m going home.”

“Why were you still here in the first place, Jerry?” Anne called after him.  Jerry didn’t dignify her comment with a response and kept walking.

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The next time Gilbert Blythe walked Anne home, it was another week later, and this time he insisted he needed help understanding their history lesson (a bold faced lie if ever there was one) and would she please be so kind as to explain it to him on her walk home?  Anne agreed, though if anyone asked her about it, she would deny to the end of her days that it was because a rather large part of her liked the company. Gilbert had proven himself to be very good at listening to her, a talent she understood very few actually possessed.  Besides that, he had proven himself to share quite a few interests with her, and the more they talked, the more she discovered things they had in common.

He continued his little trick of asking about school work for the next month or so.  Then, one day, he didn't have an excuse at all, merely waited for her at the door, and smiled when she joined him.

“May I walk you home?”  He asked lowly.

Anne smiled at him, brightly.  “You may.”

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“I was just wondering if you'd like to walk home with me today.”  Anne said, suddenly nervous, though she knew she had no real reason to be.  He had been walking her home two or three times a week for about two months now.  “Diana is ill and Ruby doesn't actually live close enough to walk even part of the way.” She explained quickly, though she was certain Gilbert already knew all this.

She let out a relieved sigh when Gilbert only smiled, and said, “Let me get my things.”  Although, why she was so relieved was anyone's guess. Gilbert had never been one to exploit the vulnerable parts she had exposed around him.  It was one of her favorite things about him.

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“Are we friends yet, Anne?” Gilbert asked one day, quite out of nowhere, during one of Anne's dramatic retelling of a poem she had just read, and “Oh, Sir Tennyson has such a sensational way with words, doesn't he, Gil?”

Anne stopped in her tracks and turned to face her walking companion. “Why, yes, of course we are.”  She smiled teasingly. “What, did you think our classroom rivalry made us mortal, irreconcilable enemies?  Because I tend not to walk home most days with those.”

“You have mortal enemies?”  Gilbert asked with a laugh, forgetting himself for a moment.

“Doesn't everybody?”  Anne replied with great seriousness, until Gilbert let loose more unrestrained laughter, and she let her facade crack with a smile.

Gilbert’s smile faded, and there was something strange in his expression when he looked her in the eye again. “Anne,” he said softly, then, quite impulsively, took her hand, that strange expression ever more prominent.  Anne had begun to think she could identify that look he often got in his eyes when he was with her, she certainly knew him well enough now to understand most of his expressions. She couldn't (wouldn't) identify this one though ( tenderness, certainty, awe, adoration, l-). No, she was absolutely not ready to even entertain the notion.  Though it was still there, sitting in the back of her head, like a Christmas present waiting to be opened when the time came.

“Yes?” She asked, and there was a time when she might have snatched her hand back, and cuffed him over the head for good measure, but it certainly wasn't now.  Not when being near him always seemed to set her whole skin buzzing. Every point where their skin touched shifted her center of gravity until it felt like he was the only thing keeping her from falling off the face of the Earth.  It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. She wanted nothing more than to let go. She wanted nothing more than to keep holding on.

A slight smile touched his lips then, quite different than any other smile he had, though so, so familiar to her.  “I'm very glad we're friends.”

Anne found herself smiling quite without her brain's permission.  “Me too.”

With that, they both continued on their way Green Gables, and if Gilbert’s hand never left hers the whole way back, Anne didn't say anything about it.