A/N: Another modern!Anna x Bates AU! I just couldn't resist. This concept has been in my head for a while, and its gone through some changes from what I originally envisaged but I just had to bring it to life. It'll be multi chapter but I'm not sure how long it'll go yet. I just hope you'll find it as exciting as I do :)

Special thanks to fuzzydream for helping me to iron out some details.

Disclaimer: Anna Smith, John Bates and all the other characters of Downton Abbey belong to Julian Fellowes/Carnival/ITV.

Nursing his cup of coffee, John let out a sigh as he stood beneath the arches of the attic room, peering out of the small window that still afforded him quite the view. He wasn't sure what he was looking for on this morning; some kind of guarantee that the day would be a good one, though he knew by now that you could never tell so early on. A spark of inspiration, perhaps. His insomnia always knew the most unfortunate times to strike. Since his brain decided that 3.30am would be a good time to wake up he hadn't been able to doze back off, not even with the aid of the particularly weighty tome he'd been doing his best to try and crawl through. When the chorus of birds sounded out from outside his window, it had been his cue to get up too.

Can't even have a lie in on my first day off in months, he had thought, cursing loudly and getting quite the wake-up call as the shower teemed icy water onto his body. He fiddled pointlessly with the heat control as drips of water rained on his head and obscured his vision, realising once more that it had needed fixing for some time now. He probably should get out of the habit of putting himself last, but he was usually that tired he didn't fancy bringing work home with him, even if it wouldn't take that long.

He tried not to be too introspective these days, after Robert had accused him too many times half-playfully of being a stick in the mud, but in these quiet hours as the day was only properly emerging from its dawn he found that he couldn't help his mind from wandering. He thought about how idealistic – and downright foolish – he had been in his younger days, believing that everything would go exactly to his grand plan, even down to the smallest details. There was a small smile inching at his lips as he recalled his mother's voice as clear as day, beckoning him in from the hours he spent roaming outside. You've got your head way up in the clouds, my lad. She told him that it was a blessing and a curse in combination, and he had come to learn that the hard way.

But he had never been completely lost to dreaming. He always buckled down to work when he needed to, and that ethic had served him well, especially in these past few years. The cottage may have been more than a bit of a ramshackle when he had got there, but it was one of his proudest achievements that he had got it up to scratch, almost completely on his own. It truly was his home now; though he couldn't have imagined it even months after he had moved in, now he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. The nearest city was miles away and it even took a bit of a trek to get into the village but he valued the seclusion, probably more than anything else in his life. It gave him the space to breathe and grow, and he wasn't complacent enough to consider that he didn't need that anymore.

Life had certainly not turned out the way he had planned, but it looked far better than he ever thought it would again, and for that he couldn't be anything but deeply and heartily grateful.

He was enjoying the peace of the morning, beginning to find the plan for his free day in the breathtaking landscape before him – surely the best vantage point that was to be had across the county at his own personal disposal. All too soon, that peace was abruptly and unfortunately shattered.

There could only be one person calling upon him at this time of the morning, and John muttered to himself disgruntedly as he bundled himself out of the small shelter of the attic, traipsing down the stairs that creaked ever so slightly under his feet. It seemed that he wouldn't be getting his day off, after all.

He tried not to look too thwarted as he opened the door to find, sure enough, Robert standing on the doorstep, wearing a wide and vaguely infuriating grin. For some unknown reason he was decked out in full tweed, though there was a newspaper under his arm in place of a rifle. John supposed it was a specification of the job being lord of the manor that you could wake up in the morning and choose to be whatever portion of eccentric was required that day. It would only be letting the side down otherwise.

"You took your time," he remarked, which John thought rather rich coming from someone who lived somewhere where it took at least half an hour or more to get to the other side of the residence.

"Well, I wasn't expecting company, at least not so soon." Holding the door open with one hand, John was already turning back into the cottage with the prospect of gathering up his toolbox. "What is it today, then?"

Robert shook his head fiercely, sending his already windswept hair into another flurry.

"Bates, my dear fellow, do you think I would deny you your day off? I'm disappointed that you'd think so little of me. Remember that I'm your friend first and foremost, employer second."

It was a matter that neither of them particularly acknowledged much, knowing it would never lose the ring of awkwardness, largely on John's part. Yet it didn't mean that he wasn't thankful to his oldest friend. Indeed he owed him the greatest debt there was, offering him a much needed lifeline when he was all but down and out. He did have his moments – that thankfully were kept in check by the presence of his wife, Cora – but on the whole, Robert was a very generous boss indeed. Not that John really gave him much cause to be, needing little other favours than the roof that was over his head.

John nodded with a faint smile, which crumpled when Robert's mouth hung open again.

"Well, there is a light that's misbehaving," he admitted quietly, the sound of his boots stomping on the mat inside almost drowning out his voice. "The same one as last week, I'm afraid. It's not bothering me and Cora too much, but you know what some of the visitors are like. If everything's not immaculately perfect, they complain that they're not getting enough for their money. But of course I don't expect you to do anything about it now."

"I'll make it my first point of call tomorrow," John affirmed, retrieving his mobile from the pocket of his jeans and typing out a memo. "Sounds like it might be the fuses come loose. Probably needs a trip up into the village for some new ones."

Robert smiled at his friend's methodical nature, never able to shut off completely. "I should take my mother's advice, go back to the days of having everything lit by candlelight and oil lamp. It might make for a more authentic experience."

"Probably not one that those of us living in the 21st century would appreciate," John quipped, looking over his shoulder as he ambled into the kitchen. "Not to mention that you'd put me out of one line of work."

"Nonsense," Robert huffed lightly, "there's always a place for a man like you."

John let out an amused snort of laughter at the vaguely sentimental remark. "You flatter me, Lord Grantham."

"None of that," Robert aimed a finger towards John as he sat down at the single chair that occupied the small kitchen table. "Let's agree not to talk shop for today."

"I'll drink to that," John grinned, flicking on the coffee machine and sending it into action once more.

Once the coffee had brewed, John made up two cups, adding the unhealthy amount of milk that Robert insisted upon and leaving his own black. His second cup of the day was not drained as quickly as the first, though it was Robert who did most of the talking – as was usual – excitedly filling John in on the talks he'd been having with some people he'd met up with to utilise Downton Abbey to its full potential, remaining as part heritage site and listed building that was a prime location for history lovers and parties of retirees on day trips out and for the rest of the year providing the location for a series of social enterprises to have trial runs of their services. John could only imagine what Robert's mother would make of it all, turning in her grave if she had occupied one. Robert insisted that everything that was being planned was in line with the estate's running, only looking slightly worried at the prospect of the rebuke he was certain to receive. John had to admit that it all sounded very interesting, and as active facilities and building manager of the grand house he was sure to be consulted and even take on a few more responsibilities. The place ran the risk of becoming static and outdated if it continued as it was, with so much competition from elsewhere around the country, Robert was passionately arguing, and John was impressed that everything he'd been telling his friend for years believing it was falling on deaf ears was now actually sinking in. He supposed he did look just a touch smug as he leant against the counter, arms folded and nodding silently as Robert came to his conclusion.

Throughout their conversation he had noticed Robert pushing the newspaper he had brought over by a few centimetres across the table at a time, and before he could turn to rinse out his cup a not-so-subtle cough from his friend caught John's attention.

"You should go and get that checked out, doesn't sound too good to me," he remarked, tea towel held in his hand.

The sheepish look on Robert's face didn't exactly fill him with confidence; instead, it made his stomach lurch quite uncomfortably, and he began to regret having that second cup at all. He cocked his head to the side, able to read his friend like a book and knowing when he had some plan up his sleeve. Robert Crawley was never one to come forward quickly, and there was nothing else for it but for him to be the one to get to the point.

"Alright, let's have it."

Robert simply glared with wide eyes, feigning total innocence which didn't fool John for a second. He was determined not to be put off his stride.

"Whatever it is you've obviously been thinking about since the moment you got here. I suppose it's got something to do with that," John gestured towards the rolled up newspaper.

He attempted to continue with his tack of naivety for a few moments, and then Robert shrugged, taking the pages between his hands and folding them out carefully when he'd got to the one he wanted. John squinted from a distance, and in that moment was glad he'd left his reading glasses by the bedside.

As he got close enough to see, Robert's finger pointed over the headline of text in the box, a hot surge of fear travelled down his spine. Of all the things he had expected, it certainly hadn't been that.

Downton College for the Arts
formerly
Downton Comprehensive School
presents the Class of 2001

School reunion, Thursday 15th May 2014

"You were still there then, weren't you?" Robert asked, this time it seemed really and truly innocently.

"Yeah," John muttered shortly, wrapping the tea towel tightly around his hand on instinct, part of him hoping that it might be enough to cut off the circulation. "At least, I think I was, I don't know for sure."

In truth, the date was etched in his mind, burned into his brain. 20th February 2003. The day that his teaching career had come to an unceremonious and deeply ungracious end, the day the threatening foundations of his world had finally crumbled to rubble.

Of course he hadn't forgotten about that former life completely. It was impossible to do with something he had dedicated himself to, as wholly as he did with everything he took on. He had believed that he had found his calling, even though the road hadn't always ran smoothly and presented him with obstacles, largely of his own making. It had ended badly. That was a great understatement. It had shattered him. Not all of the memories were painful, and those were the ones he had chosen to keep as his mementos, with some work gone into the task. But for his own sake, he had to banish the rest. He had moved on so far now that even the thought made him anxious that things would begin to slip again, helpless from his grasp. He felt furious that Robert hadn't even considered how such a proposition would make him feel, though he betrayed little of his anger as they were both holed up in the modest kitchen. He straightened his shoulders, taking the carefully crafted nonchalant approach instead.

"Isn't that what Facebook and all that lark is for? Just to be nosey and see what people who pretended to be your friends years ago are up to now? That's if what they tell the world is actually the truth."

"It is for those of us who don't cut ourselves willingly off from society," Robert shot back from the table with a smirk. "And good to know that you're being as cynical as ever."

John made a face, unimpressed at his friend's assertion. "I'm not cynical. I just don't see the point, that's all." He wiped the splashes of the water the rather powerful blast from the tap had left from the counter. "The past is that. In the past. I don't feel the need to revisit it."

Robert sighed, bringing a hand to smooth back his errant hair. John Bates was never easy to contend with; he could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be, which was quite frequently. He could see that this would require a little more time, and perhaps regretfully the deliverance of some harsh truths. However, for now he decided to tread softly.

"Not even for one night? Not even that, look." Once again Robert was pointing to the details that were printed before them, staring them both in the face. "Three and a half hours. What harm could that possibly do? I'll give you double the time back."

"That's an offer I can't possibly refuse," John answered distinctly sarcastically, causing Robert to roll his eyes.

It must have meant something to Robert, if he'd gone to all the trouble to go down to the village, buy the newspaper and bring it all the way back here. He wondered whether he had been giving off a certain vibe of late, moping around or complaining too much about his duties. He certainly had no problems with his job. Granted, it wasn't the most stimulating of roles, but at least it kept his mind and his body active, saving him the trouble of having to do much in the way of working out. He didn't feel any longing for his other career, or at the very least he didn't believe he had done anything to show it.

Robert was persisting with his glare, and John was abruptly reminded of the advice his friend had given him all those years ago, when he had been in the depths of despair and only one hand had been willing enough to hold out towards him.

You can't let what's happened rule your life. Don't look back and brood. All you can do is plough forward, as best you can.

A tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of his lips could be seen altering John's expression, knowing from experience that Robert had had to take his own advice way back when he got into money troubles and nearly lost the estate. He might have looked downright ludicrous in that mock-hunting get-up, but it had to be said that he did speak sense, and especially when he had needed to hear it the most.

With a tentative hand, he picked up the newspaper from the table at the same time as Robert stood, folding the notice away out of his view.

"I'll think about it," John uttered, shaking his head as Robert's ruddy face erupted into another smile akin to the one he had been wearing on his arrival, but this time even more irritating. "But that's the best you're getting out of me for now."

"My good chap, your best is all I can ever ask for."

Anna sat in the shelter of the trailer, making light work of the chicken salad sandwich she was munching through, already feeling the outfit that was too tight as it was restrict even further with each bite she took. At first she thought the vast rails of wardrobe that were assigned to her were a definite perk of the job, but she would have rather got to wear them minus the corset and other garments that were time appropriate. To be brutally honest, she didn't see the need for them – surely it was up to them as actors to convey the conventions of the time through their actions and expressions rather than having the aid of something that wouldn't even been seen most of the time anyway – but the producer was a stickler for detail and argued that every little thing really did make a difference to the performance of each individual, whether they realised it or not.

For six months of the year she lived and breathed the Edwardian era, and for all her unvoiced complaints about the heaviness of certain costumes or the amount of hanging around she had to do being part of a large ensemble cast, all of whom had scenes divided between them, she loved it. The show was her first major role after finishing her prolonged drama training, having done a couple of touring productions in the theatre, a great deal of radio work, and a fairly minor part in a hospital drama. She decided she really had nothing to lose by auditioning, this new show with its prestigious links in both cast and writing causing quite a fuss in the acting world before it had even got off the ground. As with every role she tried out for she did nothing short of her absolute best, carefully preparing what she would read and tailoring it to what she had been able to research, though nearly every aspect about the show had been kept under wraps. She hadn't expected much to come from it, knowing on the day that she could have done much better, so it made it all the more surprising to find out that she had in fact got the part, and a considerable one at that. She remembered nearly being knocked from her feet in the middle of the street when she received the call, shrieking out and sending everyone else scurrying away from the crazy girl with a phone glued to her ear.

In acting terms it was the role of a lifetime, especially for a young actress who was just starting to make her name. Her fellow cast members were quite possibly the nicest bunch of people anyone could come across, the younger ones she could identify closely with and the veterans incredibly supportive in all the advice they were able to give. Anna felt deeply honoured to be able to have her name next to them in the credits, never mind sharing scenes. Nobody could have predicted the success the show would achieve after just one series, there was something about it that made the public take it to their hearts immediately. The whole cast found themselves sought after and adored, and to her bemusement, Anna was one of the fans' most favourites. Well, she supposed that it wasn't too hard to understand. Lady Iris was a beautifully written character, with so many wonderful qualities; kind, soft-hearted and enthusiastic about life, but with a headstrong determination and desire to change the world that was fascinating for a woman of her time. The more Anna read of her, the more she wished that she was a little more like the role she was portraying. Her time on-screen had well and truly propelled her into the limelight, and in-between filming she was forever being chased to do interviews and photoshoots for fashion magazines. Once the second series was finished filming, there was even talk of some of the cast heading to America for a promotional tour, though they really needed to do very little in the way of that – even there, the show had burst into a life of its own.

Anna was still finding her feet with it all, in truth sometimes needing to pinch herself to be assured that everything that was happening was actually real life. It was a dream come true – a dream that she had always hoped for when she had made the choice to go into the profession, but hadn't really believed would materialise so soon. Life had certainly not played out how she expected, and sometimes she couldn't quite fathom the craziness that came with the job she put her heart and soul into. But there was no doubting the fact that she was very lucky indeed to have everything she had, as well as the ongoing support of her family who had always been so good and hadn't deterred her or urged her to get a 'proper' and 'sensible' job instead. She promised that there was never any chance of her getting too big for her boots, but if she started to stray they would be there to ensure that she remained down to earth; the same girl from that little town in North Yorkshire who had stars in her eyes but a good, strong head on her shoulders and her feet planted firmly on the ground.

The day had already been disrupted by the unseasonal and unpredictable weather, and no doubt the lunch break would come to a conclusion sooner rather than later. Anna temporarily undid a couple of the neat buttons at her side, picking up her copy of the script after she polished off the other half of her sandwich in a record time that she had become accustomed to now, always needing to be on alert whenever she was called. Leaning back in the make-up chair and letting her polished posture slouch for the time being she went studiously through her lines, reading them over again even though she had them memorised by now. If there was one thing she had learnt it was not to be complacent. Another look through always helped and would even give you a different perspective on a scene, especially just as you were about to go into it. A little giddy smile curled her lips upwards as she briefly thought of the person who had given her such an inspired piece of advice.

Without realising it, she became absorbed and began to say the lines out loud, leaving spaces inbetween for her respondent, who at that point was only imagined.

"Edward, can't you see? It's impossible for me to accept you. It's not just about what Papa thinks, and it's not about my reputation. I just know that I'm capable of so much more than what the world expects of me…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but they wanted me to come and check everything was okay."

A shrill, almost timid voice squeaked apologetically from the door of the trailer, and Anna jumped in her concentration. Daisy did the same in seeing Anna's response, the powder brush almost flying from her hand. Both of the women laughed, Daisy taking Anna's lead when she realised that the moment was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"No need to be sorry, Daisy," Anna did her best to make the younger woman feel at ease, smiling in the small mirror as Daisy reached for her make-up kit on the counter in front. "Just one of my bad habits. I should really stop doing it by now."

"Oh no, I like hearing it," Daisy replied, dabbing a tiny bit of powder onto her brush and dotting it at the curve of Anna's jaw. "Gives me a bit of an advantage, even if it is only snippets."

The producers and directors were ruthlessly strict about not letting the scripts leak even so much as yards out of the confines of the set. There was a hint of awe in her voice as she spoke, and sometimes the way she was made Anna forget that they hailed from the very same place.

"And you do sound ever so ladylike. I could never speak that way, not with all the coaching in the world. It's lovely."

Anna smirked, careful not to move her head too much while Daisy did her job.

"Well, I only pretend to be a lady," she affirmed. "Get me back to Yorkshire and it's a different story."

"I'm sure it's not," Daisy replied, and Anna thought she was far too kind. Either that or it really was rubbing off on her. She always considered herself to be a bit of a method actress, though she didn't take it quite as far as some people. Before she could daydream too much, Daisy interrupted her thoughts once more. "Are you getting to go home any time soon?"

Though she wasn't aware she was doing it, Anna smiled fondly into the mirror.

"Once we're all finished, I'm hoping to spend a little bit of time there. Just before the press machine kicks into gear again. Although I am free for a couple of weeks in a month or so, so I might go up and take everyone by surprise then."

"That'll be nice," Daisy answered, her own voice softening with nostalgia. "Depending on the schedules, I think I'll be able to go myself for a while."

Anna clutched her hand to her chest, pretending to be deeply offended. "But whoever will do my make up then? Don't tell me it's Shirley from special effects. I don't think we're quite ready for a crossover with The Walking Dead."

There was a flurry of laughter, and the way Daisy shook her head made the waves of her hair flounce.

"I'll see to it that it isn't. It's just that my boyfriend's in a band, and he'll be going away on tour soon. So I want to catch him before he leaves."

Though they were relatively close given the time they spent together on the set, Daisy had kept that fact something of a secret. Anna listened attentively as the younger woman chatted happily away about her other half, who played keyboards and was originally from a town just outside Leeds, but had moved to Downton when he was 16. They hadn't been going out all that long, and Daisy said that it was her fault; that he had liked her for ages but she hadn't noticed and then was certain that he couldn't possibly have been after her, as it was her friend Ivy who usually got all the attention. Anna was very fond of her and felt quite protective, almost like she was a little sister. She was very talented at what she did and if there was one thing that she wished she could do, it was to instil a little more confidence in the younger woman. But in the same respect, she saw some of her younger self in Daisy and was heartened by the fact that it was probably just a matter of time until she gained that assurance and self-belief. Maybe this boyfriend of hers would help; from what Anna could tell he sounded absolutely lovely and obviously worshipped the ground Daisy walked on.

The girls talked and laughed about the peculiarities of their home town, and it wasn't until she checked her phone on a whim that Anna found a message alert on the screen.

"Oh, it's from my best friend from home," Anna said aloud, thinking that it was funny that Gwen had chosen to text her just then as she was in the middle of reminiscing. She let out a little gasp before she had finished reading the message completely, and Daisy's eyes shot towards her, silently asking what the matter was.

Anna smiled up to say that there was nothing wrong before she let Daisy in on what she had just discovered.

"Apparently there's going to be a reunion at my old school," she said, feeling herself smile stupidly.

She hadn't been one of those people who had been glad to have seen the back of school when it was over; in fact, she was something of the opposite. She had a great fondness for her high school, had made some memories there that she cherished dearly as well as making many friends, Gwen included. It was also the place that set her on the path that she was on now, providing so many rewards for her hard work. It was something she regretted, that she didn't get to go home nearly enough these days. While everyone else had the chance to catch up on a regular basis, or even just for occasional holidays, Anna missed out on it all, being too busy with her training in London or chasing roles. It was only now that things were settling down – at least in the fact that she had a stable job – that she could even consider going to such a thing. She had only been talking not too long ago about her envy of Gwen having a meet up with her old university friends, yearning for a bit of normality in her life that had suddenly become something of a whirlwind. This seemed like the perfect opportunity, at just the right time. She suddenly felt very excited about it.

"Downton Comprehensive," Daisy read as she peered at the screen over Anna's shoulder. "That was my school as well! It really is a small world." She stared off into the distance for a moment, apparently astounded by the fact. "Was Mr Carson the headteacher when you were there?"

Anna grinned as she thought of the stern-faced, straight-laced towering figure of a man who everyone was absolutely petrified of, his eyebrows causing more alarm than any other aspect about him. As one of the prefects in sixth form she had more contact with him than most other pupils, and found, as was often the case, that his bark was much worse than his bite.

"He was," she replied, casting her mind back. How could it possibly have been almost thirteen years since she had left school?

Thoughts chased one another in her head, of the different classrooms and the hangouts the pupils occupied, the other teachers that made up the staff, some dreaded and some held dearly. Her heart foolishly skipped a beat as she thought of one in particular, and just considering whether he would turn up at this event made her start to blush profusely. He was probably high up the senior staff by now, or more likely he had gone on to a better school elsewhere in the country. Still, there was the possibility that he could make the time, of course, just like she could and nobody probably would expect her to.

She snapped out of her daydreaming, straightening herself up in the chair and preparing herself to go back on set, trying to get his voice that had started to echo on the power of reminiscence out of her head but at the same time welcoming its presence that she had missed.

"When is it? Do you think you'll be able to go?" Daisy asked eagerly, swiping the brush with one finishing final stroke over her face, Anna trying not to get the powder caught in the back of her throat.

"Thursday 15th May," she uttered from memory, knowing instantly that the date fitted in with her break from filming.

The call for her came before she could reply to Gwen, but as soon as she had finished for the day she rushed back to the trailer, typing out her response with a smile.

- Count me in – I'll definitely be there x

It was the perfect opportunity indeed.

A/N: So, what do you think? Something you imagined? I would love to know your thoughts and appreciate every reading :)