A/N: This is in response to terriejane's prompt "A 19 year old Anna meets a 35 year old Mr. Bates in London". I hope you all enjoy. Please review.

London 1912

John stood off to the side of the makeshift stage and let out a whoosh of air, waiting to see if Robert had hit all his marks on the speech. John dabbed at his brow with a folded handkerchief that he'd kept in his pocket, the notes from his speech long forgotten about. The heat coming off of the machines nearby was intense but he tried to pay it no mind. He looked out a nearby window to see the sky painted grey; not from the gloomy weather but from the smoke that swirled through the sky like cream in his morning tea. A work whistle sounded off for workers to return from lunch and the sound of machines grinding in the not too far distance whirred in the background at a steady rhythm.

John still wasn't sure how he'd managed to let Robert talk him into managing his campaign in the first place. It wasn't that he didn't want to improve things for his fellow man or even the city that was evolving around him; but he had never much enjoyed being in the limelight or even remotely near it for that matter. But John had grown up in these streets and he had a history with the people that made up the work force. Even more importantly, John had a way with words and had proved most effective in writing speeches for Robert to get his ideas across to the people.

It appeared that was not the case this morning though. Robert had gone against John's better judgement to hold a meet and greet with the people in front of one of the factories that was currently at odds with its employees. The crowd was restless as they demanded to know how Robert was going to reign in their employers and help them to feed their families. When his old comrade in arms failed to give the answers the people were looking for there was an uproar. John tried to signal to Robert to wrap up his speech and get off the stage before the crowd turned violent. But it was too late. A young, Irish boy that couldn't have been more than sixteen years old lobbed a glass bottle up towards Robert and John quickly pulled him out of harms way.

"You alright, sir?" John asked

"For now, but we best get the hell out of here before it gets any worse," Robert said as he made his way to the back door. "These damn heathens don't realize I'm trying to help their lot."

John turned back to observe the crowd that was slowly turning on itself as the supervisors on the floor began to pour in to regain control of the pandemonium. That was when he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. He supposed she had been standing out to him in the crowd since he first introduced Robert onto the stage. She was the only one not covered from head to toe in soot and had been avidly writing down notes on a sheet of paper even as he spoke. Which he had found intriguing; in his mind he had said nothing of particular importance, as it was Robert who was going to be the main event. Only now he saw that she was being shoved around in the scuffle that was taking place. Somehow this exquisite creature had found herself at the eye of the tornado and John was worried she'd get hurt or trampled. He made his way towards the end of the stage and barely heard Robert's pleas to come back. "Bates! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

John hopped off the stage; a sharp pain shot straight to his knee, but he persevered. He disregarded his cane and shoved his way through the chaos to reach her and grabbed her by the hand. The chemistry was instant, like a lightning bolt shooting straight to his core when his skin brushed against hers and their eyes found one another. Even in that split second he had been able to register that she had the most captivating blue eyes he'd ever seen and her pixie like face was perfectly framed by golden waves of hair that shone like the morning sun. He pulled her closer to him and covered her head with his hands, forming a shield around her with his body as he forged a path of least resistance for them to make their escape.

Once they had made it out into the alley that ran the length of the building John let out a sigh of relief and grimaced as he leaned against a wall to take the weight off his leg and rubbed his knee. It had been a stupid decision on his part to jump from the stage or even to leave his cane behind, but as John looked over at the young lady standing across from him with eager eyes he felt the pain dissipate. He was shaken back to reality when her hand touched his arm.

"I hope you aren't hurt badly on my account," she said softly.

"It's nothing," John lied as he attempted to stand up straight without giving away his discomfort. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern.

Anna wasn't sure what her hair looked like, but she was certain it was out of place and did her best to push it back in place with her finger tips. She smoothed her dress out and smiled back at her unexpected hero, "Yes, I think so." She froze for a moment when John stopped to brush some of the soot off of her dress. Anna fought hard to find the will to speak again as she took in his appearance. He was an older man for certain, perhaps a good ten or fifteen years older. He was tall too; much bigger than herself and he had an athletic build. His face was clean shaven and he had the most enchanting hazel eyes that seemed to shine more brightly when he looked directly at her. She noticed when he shot a smile her way the corners of his eyes seemed to crinkle and the dimples of his cheeks were amplified. Not wanting to be caught staring for too long she returned to her train of thought, "A little shaken, but the whole thing was rather exciting."

John let out a forced laugh that seemed to echo in the narrow passage they were standing in. If one could even call it that. It smelled from the waste that was discarded there by the factory workers. Loose, crumpled papers line the floor and some unidentifiable sewage gathered in pools near the edge of the walls. "That's not quite the word I'd use, but I'm glad you weren't hurt." John maintained eye contact with her while he readjusted his tie and shrugged his jacket back into place before buttoning it up. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like that anyway? You obviously don't work there."

Anna smirked when he confirmed her suspicions; she had stuck out like a sore thumb. "No, I don't. I'm trying to work as a journalist for The Sketch," she replied.

"Trying?" he asked still a bit out of breath from earlier.

"Well, I started there as a secretary but I really want to write professionally. The manager at The Sketch told me if I could hand in some sample pieces of real issues he could consider me for a journalist position," Anna said.

Suddenly there was a loud crash from inside the building and John heard the whistle of bobbies in the distance, before he caught sight of them running past them in the alley way. Anna and John both turned towards the sound, still standing in place, mere feet from one another.

"We should get out of here, it's not safe," John urged.

"But I need to get this story," she replied stubbornly.

He had to admire her persistence. My god, she couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, he hoped her wilful nature wasn't too hard to sway. "Look I realize I don't know you…but it's not worth your life to go back in there," John advised as his hands settled on the sides of both of her arms trying talk some sense into her.

Her eyes squinted as she considered his suggestion until a gunshot scared them both, followed by two men falling through the door that they had originally exited from. The men landed in a pile on the ground and continued to fight. John instinctively placed his body between the men who were fighting and Anna. He felt Anna tug at his sleeve and utter, "Alright, we can go now." John nodded and led her away from the factory, keeping one eye and ear out for the riot that was breaking out behind them.

They walked together, to nowhere in particular. John couldn't help but notice she had slowed down to go at the same pace as he was, but she didn't seem to be inconvenienced by it. His leg was aching and without his cane to redistribute the weight he was putting on his knee, John didn't think he'd be able to walk like this much longer.

Anna grimaced with each step he took, not out of pity of course, but she sympathized with him. "Would you mind terribly if we stopped for a moment and took a seat?" she asked. Anna only hoped he wouldn't see past her thinly veiled plan.

"Oh, sure," he responded. John saw that knew the area well and they were approaching a park, he suggested they sit on one of the benches there. "I'm John...Bates, by the way."

"Yes, I know. I thoroughly enjoyed your introductory speech before Mr. Crawley got on stage," she chimed in. "I even managed to scribble some of it down."

"Did you now?" John asked as he gestured for Anna to sit down first. John thought he had seen her taking copious notes as he was talking, but he never would have dreamed she was writing something about him.

"Mmhhmm," Anna said as she showed him her notebook and flipped to the page to prove she wasn't lying.

John saw a first initial and last name scrawled on the front of the notebook. "A. Smith? Let's see, I've gotten pretty good at guessing names from all the people we've met during the campaign." He pursed his lips together as he sized the young woman before him up. "You don't look like an Adelaide or an Abigail," John said as his eyes swept over her delicate features. "Judging by your Yorkshire accent you wouldn't be an Aoife. Alma wouldn't fit your personality either," John observed. "You must be Anna," John ventured a guess.

"That's remarkable!" she exclaimed.

John chuckled when he saw how easily amused he was with his hidden talent. But he was more intrigued with how someone so young seemed to already have such a sense of direction and purpose as to what she wanted to do with her life. He smiled easily at her with heartwarming eyes. "Not really. I think running across a young lady like yourself that wants to be a journalist and is willing to run back into a building on the verge of anarchy is more remarkable."

"I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be," she said with a shrug.

John couldn't explain it but he felt himself gravitating towards her, but he tried to keep his distance. Though he wouldn't lie to himself, she was gorgeous and the smell of her perfume was euphoric. But far too young for him.

"I'm not much of a journalist either. I didn't even get to finish getting the highlights of Mr. Crawley's speech," Anna groaned as she set her notebook down on the bench between them.

John wished there was something he could do to cheer her up. He suddenly remembered that he still had Robert's speech in his pocket, "Would this help?" John slowly slid the paper over to her until his fingers touched hers.

Anna slowly turned her head to look down, her eyes running over the words on the paper and a smile quirked up on the side of her face. She looked over at John and said, "But, how?"

"I write Mr. Crawley's speeches. I always keep a spare on hand," John replied.

"This is very good," Anna commented.

"Well thank you."

"You wrote this?" Anna inquired.

"You don't believe me?" he shot back playfully with an indignant look.

"Oh no, please, I meant no offense at all," Anna said as she stumbled over her own words. "On the contrary, I think this is very good. It's just that...erm…"

"What?" John asked as his hands flailed.

"When I read it I picture you saying it instead of Mr. Crawley. There is so much more passion coming across in your written words than I felt from Mr. Crawley's speech," Anna said.

John's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Oh."

"Judging by your speech I'd say you seem more in touch with the people's wants and needs, which is key to success in elections," Anna replied.

"I guess it's because I grew up here. I went to school just up the road and my mother and father were both from the labour class. When I finished school I was supposed to go to university but I joined the army and fought side by side with Mr. Crawley," John said. He looked over at Anna and noticed she was still watching him avidly as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I'm probably boring you."

"No, you aren't. Is that how you hurt your leg? Fighting in the war?" she asked.

John nodded in agreement but averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you were very brave," Anna said.

"How would you know that?" John asked.

"I don't know. Just a feeling I suppose. I mean the way you jumped off of the stage and swept me out of harms way twice. You don't seem like the type to run away from a fight," she reasoned.

"Well I wouldn't call it brave, but I got this injury saving Mr. Crawley. I just did what anyone would do for their friend and comrade," John replied.

"And you think he's the right man for the job?" Anna asked. "I mean, you must think he's a good man if you saved him and then chose to manage his campaign."

"I know he wants to do things to better the city for everyone, especially the working class."

"But, don't you think it would be better to have someone run that knows about our struggle?"

"Robert knows," John replied a little more harshly than he'd intended. Even if she did have a point, John felt he still owed so much to Robert for hiring him on despite his injury.

Anna shot him a skeptical look, "Does he now?"

"Yes," John answered none too convincingly.

"Isn't Mr. Crawley the son of the Earl of Grantham?"

John hadn't expected a girl of her age to know so much about Robert's past. "Yes," he answered back.

"So it's safe to say that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He's never had to work for anything in his life and was able to go to the school of his choice, yes?" Anna challenged him.

John's lips formed a thin line as he was baffled by this tiny woman who exhibited more courage and boldness than some of the men he'd seen on the front line. "Yes," John answered honestly, though he hated to admit it. "But he does want to help the people."

"Yes but he can't be an effective leader if he doesn't truly understand what we need help with and how to go about helping us," Anna pointed out. She turned to face him now and he was taken aback by the abrupt motion. "If you were running for the labour party what would you do?" Anna asked.

"But I'm not."

"Humor me," Anna replied as she stared at him pointedly.

What was this hold she had over him? How had she managed to hold his attention so? She was intriguing and inquisitive. She was independent and fearless. He'd never known such a combination to exist in any woman he'd ever met in person. Anna wasn't just a pretty face either; she was engaging and knowledgeable, it made it so easy to talk to her.

"Well, I would try to create more jobs and clear out the work houses. I'd hold the big business to fair practices with their employees including fair pay. I'd work on providing affordable housing for the people that are working to keep their families off the streets. And I'd give the lower class more access to the educational system and trade skills. The only way we can continue to flourish is for everyone to ban together and bring forth whatever skills they have to the table and contribute in any way they can," John answered. "I'm sure there's more that I could do, but I think those are the most important things we need to work on first."

Anna smiled at him, she loved the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about something that he truly believed in. His smile even managed to meet his eyes and his hands waved about enthusiastically as he wove a tapestry of dreams to come and things that never were. "Do you know what I think?" Anna asked.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," John replied playfully and chortled a little.

"You're quite the orator."

John rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Have you ever thought of running for Parliament?"

"Me?"

"Yes. Why not?" she replied excitedly.

"Well let's just pretend Robert isn't running for a second, he's my best mate. I can't run against my best mate."

"Yes, but is he the best man for the job?"

John didn't answer.

Anna gestured for him to go on. "Alright then, what else?"

"I hate public speaking."

"That's easily fixed with some practice."

Boy she had an answer for everything didn't she? He thought to himself. "I don't like to socialize."

"You're socializing with me," she replied.

"That's different. I like you," John said without thinking.

A silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable. Although John wished she would speak because he thought the only thing that could hurt worse than her rejection would be if she got up and walked away.

"We should probably get going now," Anna said.

"Yes, I suppose we should," John said as he checked his pocket watch. "Which way are you heading?"

"I live over on the west end."

"I can walk you back, it's on my way. It wouldn't be right to let you navigate the streets on your own in case things get out of hand with the riots," John said.

They both rose from their seat and began to walk back towards Anna's home. John had been a gentleman the entire time and stopped outside of her building. They made idle chit chat on the way there, but now that their little meeting was coming to an end Anna said, "Well this is my stop."

"Oh," John said as he gave the building a once over. "It's lovely."

"It was nice to have met you and thanks again for saving me," Anna added.

"It was nothing," John answered back, making light of it all. "But it was a real pleasure to have met your acquaintance, Anna. I hope you don't give up on your desire to become a journalist. I think you'll make a fantastic writer."

Anna blushed in response to his words. She felt her stomach do a little flip and wanted to say something more. If only there was the promise that she might be able to encounter him again. But in case she didn't, she couldn't let him leave without giving him a last bit of encouragement. "I hope you consider what I said. It should be you, Mr. Bates." The way she said his name as she emphasized each syllable was like a melody ringing in his ear.

"I will," he replied genuinely. "And Anna…"

Anna stopped to turn and face him once more before shutting the door.

"You are a lady to me. And I've never known a finer one," John said with a smile before walking back to Robert's office. He meant what he said. John would give the candidacy serious consideration and it was all thanks to a lovely, fiery woman named, Anna.

Side note: I don't pretend to understand the political arena in London at the time in any aspect. I tried to research it but found it to only confuse me more. So hopefully the few bits I sprinkled in were believable enough.