This follows on directly from my first story, Downton Drama. The last scene of Downton Drama is included at the start. I didn't want to publish them together because I didn't want to have to change the rating. I've never written M before, and I don't know if I've done a very good job of it, but here we go…

Anna found her husband standing at the edge of the courtyard by the driveway, looking up at the stars. He turned when he heard her coming, and smiled. "I haven't seen stars since…that Sunday night. The day before Miss Swire's funeral. I remember you were talking about how sad it was. I had my arm around you, and we were looking up at the stars."

Anna stepped close to him, allowing him to put his arm around her in the same way as he had then. "Didn't you have a window in your cell?"

"Yes. But you couldn't see much out of it."

"How horrible. I can't imagine not being able to see the stars. I think I'd go mad."

"I did a bit."

Anna pulled him closer, and he kissed her hair.

"So what do you want to do tonight, then?"

John thought for a moment. "Umm…Are you referring to options other than standing around out here?"

"I am."

"What did you have in mind, Mrs Bates?"

"Well…Lady Mary has ordered me to take a guest room."

"Ordered you?"

"Yes. She was most insistent."

John chuckled.

"The trouble with that, of course, is that we're not guests, so we'd have to find a room, make up the bed, then unmake it again in the morning and get the sheets to the laundry before anybody noticed."

"How badly do you want to spend the night with me, Mrs Bates?"

Anna glared at him playfully. "It's quite ridiculous, really, isn't it? How hard would it have been for them to just allocate us a guest room, or a servant's room?"

"Well, having a guest room would be against all the rules of our class, and sharing a servant's room would be against all the rules of our sex."

"It is another option, though, I could open the door in the corridor and go into your room. We could spend the night there."

"You naughty girl."

"Well that's the thing, women aren't banned from going into the men's corridor – I've been in there before, loads of times. It's the men that are banned from going into the maids' corridor."

"I don't think maids are allowed to spend the night in the men's corridor, though."

"Well, no, but who would know?"

"I'm not sure if I can be quiet."

Anna blushed. "It would be like being in a fish bowl, wouldn't it?"

"Breaking the rules in a fish bowl."

"They seem like silly rules, though, when we're married. And we've been apart for so long. I think the staff just don't understand because they've never been in love or shared their life with someone, so they don't understand that when you're in that situation, you just can't sleep apart. Don't you think?"

"I never want to sleep apart from you ever again."

John kissed her, deeply, passionately. Anna rose onto her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Long repressed feelings began to bubble to the surface. She pulled away, resting her forehead on his. "Which option are we going for, then?"

"I think we need to decide right, right now." He kissed her again with a force that almost toppled her off her tip-toes.

"Hurry up and decide, then!"

"Me? Anna, I believe the gentlemanly thing would be to leave this up to you!"

"You're not being very gentlemanly at the moment."

"No I'm not." John stepped forward, pushing her against the wall of the laundry. He moved in to kiss her again.

"Wait!" she whispered. "Shh."

John heard it too, and turning his head, he saw four figures come into sight at the other end of the driveway. "I think we're in a bit of a fishbowl here too."

"Yeah." Letting go of him, Anna stepped away from the wall. "Guest room," she whispered. "The same one as before. Wait ten minutes, then follow me." And with a quick kiss to his cheek, she was gone.

John leaned heavily against the wall, breathing deeply. He wondered if this was really happening, or if he was just dreaming in his cell. Then he heard her voice from earlier in the day. "Believe." Glancing at the approaching maids and footman, he slipped to the back door, and inside.

...

Slipping off her shoes, so she could move quickly without attracting attention, Anna charged up the stairs to her room. Unlike the last time, she wasn't too worried about what she was wearing – the new fashions were far more comfortable, and far easier to get out of – but she did need to grab one thing. Shutting the door, Anna opened the bottom drawer of her bureau, rummaging around until she found what she was after, in a small box at the very back. Ripping it open, she discarded the box on the floor.

...

John felt an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu wash over him as he emerged from the servants' staircase at the far end of the south corridor, to see a soft light glowing from beneath the door of the third room on the left.

"The third room on the left," he remembered her whispering as they stood at the edge of the courtyard that mild April night in 1919. By the laundry wall, he realised. It was as if all that had happened since then had simply been a pause, an interlude. Though at the time it had seemed interminable, now it was over, and their lives had been mercifully reset back to that same night, the most wonderful of his life. Nothing had changed. They were back here again, ready to begin the rest of their lives.

Was this real?

Well, if it was happening twice, it must be.

Clearing his throat nervously, John breathed on his hand to check that his breath was clean. Smoothing his hair with the same hand, he took hold of the door handle, and it slid open with the same soft click.

...

Anna stood with her back to him, slipping a pillow into a pillowcase. Hearing him enter, she turned around and smiled.

The bed behind her was stripped bare. Fluffing the pillow, she threw it down on top of a partially organised pile of bed clothes, which seemed to contain a light summer quilt, two sheets and the other pillow.

"Can I help?" her husband asked.

"You can." Anna unfurled one of the sheets, handing one end to him as she walked to the other side of the bed with the other end. Bending down, they each began tucking the sheet under the mattress.

"This takes me back," said John.

"Me too," Anna replied. "It's just like being a housemaid again."

"Oh, right. I meant the handful of times that I helped you."

"A few more than a handful." Anna looked up as John grabbed the other sheet and passed it to her.

"I always enjoyed it." He smiled.

"I particularly remember the first time."

John nodded. "Me too."

"Don't tuck the top in yet – can you pass me the quilt?"

"Ah, of course. I've forgotten how to do it!" John shook his head as he watched as Anna's deft fingers turn the sheet over the top of the quilt with geometric precision.

"Now we can tuck it in."

"Seems silly, really, when we're only going to untuck it in a minute."

Anna giggled. "Good point."

After putting the pillows in place, Anna stepped slowly towards her husband. He began to softly stroke her cheek and hair. She looked into his eyes, transfixed.

"We've had a lot of important conversations while bed-making, haven't we?"

"Mmm."

"Speechless, are you, Mrs Bates?"

Grinning, Anna nodded.

"Are you getting an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu?"

"Yes!" Anna laughed.

Leaning forward, John gently nuzzled his cheek against her temple. The feeling he was currently re-experiencing was the same in every way. Extreme elation and joy, coupled with a somewhat overwhelming nervousness. Not sure if this could be real. Not wanting to hurt her.

"Can you remember what came next?" she whispered, her breath hot against his neck.

John swallowed. "I believe I can." Turning his face, his lips crashed onto hers, moving with fast-building passion. Her tongue met his as he pulled her body towards him, his hands beginning to roam. Anna's fingers tore at his tie and waistcoat. John pulled her blouse from her skirt and swept his hands over all areas beneath it.

This was different. This was a new feeling. Before, it had been gentle, halting, sweet. This was different. This was 14 months of deprivation. This was pure animal passion. Becoming aware of this as he frustratedly wrestled his shirt off, John pulled away from her, panting. "I'm sorry," he said, screwing his eyes shut. "I'm getting carried away."

"That's fine," said Anna, taking hold of him again, just below the buttocks.

"No, it's not. It's not right." John screwed his eyes shut, painfully aware of how close she had positioned herself to his body, and what she must be able to feel beneath his trousers. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Why?"

Keeping his eyes shut, he breathed in and out, willing his erection to fall.

"John, look at me."

Her commanding tone made him obey.

"I am your wife. Every inch of me is yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

John breathed deeper than he'd ever breathed before.

"More than that," she continued, wrapping her arms around his neck, "I want you to."

She kissed him, deeply, passionately. Recovering himself, he returned it eagerly. She pulled him backwards, and after a couple of moments of teetering, they collapsed onto the bed. This evened out their height difference somewhat, giving John's hands better access to the lower regions of her body, which she found were simply screaming out for his touch.

Lifting her skirt, his hand began to work higher and higher, his wife groaning in anticipation. His fingers running into something soft and lacy, John's lips stopped moving in surprise. Left sucking the bottom one, Anna giggled knowingly. "Found something, have you?"

"I have."

Anna continued to laugh as she felt his fingers move all around the garter.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

"Certainly, Mr Bates."

Unbuttoning her skirt, she threw it to the floor and lifted her petticoat to reveal the garter, and her slender legs, to her husband's appreciative eyes.

"Well well," he said, stroking her thigh. "Have you been wearing this all day?"

"No!" Anna cracked up again. "I ran up to my room to put it on before coming here. Just before I rushed to the linen cupboard."

"My my. A lady's maid in the linen cupboard in a garter."

Anna giggled as his lips found her neck, his hand still fingering the garter.

"What are we going to do with you?"

Anna gasped as his hand moved higher, ghosting over her undergarments.

Pulling back, John looked at her with concern. "Are you alright?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "That was a gasp of pleasure, you idiot. I am so much more than alright."

John's mouth twitched shyly. "I see. Good."

"Come back here."

She didn't need to ask him twice. His lips crashing into hers, he pulled her up the bed so her head was on the pillow and, reaching beneath her petticoat, he pulled it up and over her head…

And then he was all over her. His hands, his mouth, his face, his legs, grasping and kissing every inch of her body, ripping off her undergarments one by one until she was completely naked beneath him, she wrestling with the buttons of his trousers until they were gone also, and she started on his undershorts as his lips met hers again.

He helped her rip his undershorts off, and threw them to the floor, before pulling her roughly towards him, as close as she could get, each body touching every inch of the other as they continued to kiss passionately.

John pushed his hand between her thighs, which parted gratefully for him. He began to rub her there, first slowly, then becoming stronger and stronger.

Her hand slowly moved toward his crotch, her wrist at an odd angle, her movements becoming ever jerkier as she writhed beneath him, driving him wild with desire. Then suddenly, she grasped him strongly, and he cried out as her hand began to move up and down.

"Anna," he panted, not stilling his movements on her.

Anna made a noise, which may have been a word or may simply have been a gasp of pleasure.

Groaning, John grabbed Anna's wrist with his free hand. "Stop," he gasped.

Anna's eyes flicked open. She looked up at him, frowning in confusion.

"I'm sorry, but there's something you may not know about…um…"

Still holding her wrist, John moved her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. He moved his other hand to her lower belly, stroking it gently.

"What is it?"

"There's something you may not know about…men…when, when it's been a while, the man can have trouble…controlling things. Keeping it going. I may finish too quickly, is what I'm trying to say."

"That's alright."

"I need to save myself now, so I can last longer."

"OK. I don't mind, though."

"I'll try not to finish too quickly, but if I do, I'll make it up to you later."

Anna grinned.

"And now." Before another moment could pass, he recommenced his ministrations, kissing her neck, then her breasts, and moving ever lower until he could kiss her there.

Anna was quite surprised by this, not having been aware that it was even possible, but she had learnt on her wedding night that it was best to just let John go because he knew what he was doing…he really knew what he was doing…that felt amazing

"Anna," John gasped, as she writhed beneath him. "I need you now. I don't think I can't wait any longer."

Anna smiled down at his half-lidded eyes. "I need you too."

Eagerly accepting the green light, John kissed a trail up her stomach and over her breasts, lifting her legs and positioning himself as he kissed up her neck and along her jawline, before pushing inside her at the same moment as his lips found hers.

Last time, he'd been gentle, touching her so lightly, afraid she would break. This time, he was passionate, almost rough, and yet still so loving, worshipping her body with his mouth and hands, and she loved every minute of it.

He needn't have worried about finishing too early. They came at exactly the same time, each intensifying the other's feeling. After several moments of sheer ecstasy, John finally stilled his movements, and watched as Anna opened her eyes, both of them panting.

"I love you," she said.

John felt a lump in his throat. "I love you too," he whispered, a small tear rolling down his cheek.

"Come here."

Anna took him in her arms as he broke down. She held him close, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. "It's alright," she said. "I've got you now, and I am never letting go."

"I'm sorry," John sobbed.

"Don't be. You did nothing wrong."

"No, I… It's horrible, that place, and…"

"It's OK now. You won't have to go there ever again."

He buried his face in her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her, sobbing silently. She just held him.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Stop it."

"No, I…" John pulled away, and frowned, wiping his eyes. "Why am I doing this, now? How incredibly un-manly of me."

Anna laughed. "That's fine. It is a bit emotionally overwhelming."

"I'm so scared that I'll wake up in my cell and this will all have been a dream." He stroked her cheek, his voice faint. "A beautiful, beautiful dream."

"It's not a dream."

"I've had this dream before. Many times. And if it isn't real this time, I don't know what I'll..." Another sob escaped his lips.

"Pinch yourself."

Removing his hand from her cheek, John pinched his arm. Hard. "Ow," he said faintly, frowning.

Anna smiled. "Not a dream, then?"

Moving his arm under the sheets, he hit himself in the right knee, then grimaced in pain.

Anna's expression turned to one of horror. "What are you doing? Don't hurt yourself!"

"Had to make sure. If I'd done that and it had been a dream, it would have turned into a nightmare pretty quickly."

"And why would you want that?"

"Well it hasn't, has it, because it's not a dream!" John's face broke into a grin.

"You silly man. I did tell you that it wasn't."

"How did you know it wasn't?"

"Well. One, I believe this was meant to happen, and it was only a matter of time. And two, the dream version of you never made me feel quite that amazing."

John's cheeks flushed as he gave a surprised smile. "Glad to hear it."

"My cheeks hurt," said a grinning Anna. "I've hardly stopped smiling all day!"

"Mine too." John's eyes crinkled, gazing at her in wonder. "That's another pain that tells me it's real, I suppose."

"Absolutely."

"Thank God for that." He collapsed onto his back, pulling Anna towards him. She settled her head onto his chest, and he held her close.

"You know what you said, before, about…"

Anna's voiced trailed off, and John's head turned toward hers, kissing her on the temple. "About what?" he said softly.

"About it being a long time, and that having an effect on finishing quickly…"

"Yes?"

"Well, last time was…"

"Last time was slower, I know, I'm sorry."

"No no, it was – no, both times were good, and I couldn't have lasted any longer this time either, but…"

John swallowed, not sure what she was getting at. "But?"

"Well, last time, hadn't it been an even longer time? I mean, it's been 14 months now, but then it'd been, well, I don't know how long for you, but my whole life and your…"

"Ten, eleven years." John nodded, smiling in relief when he realised what she meant. "Yes, it had been a longer time, a longer gap last time, but last time, Anna, I was so hopelessly, cripplingly nervous, that that cancelled out any lack of control I may have had otherwise."

Anna turned her head to look at him. "You were nervous?"

"Of course I was! I was terrified, I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't know what you'd think of me, and I had to be careful, I couldn't just take you, like I did just now."

"I was nervous."

"Not as nervous as I was."

"You did a good job of hiding it."

"Well, good, I… Good."

"Just take me, eh?" Anna's eyebrow rose seductively.

"You deserve to be made love to slowly, and I will do that, I just got a bit carried away."

"You can 'just take me' any time you want."

John's mouth was dry. He looked into her eyes, his heart beating faster. It had to be a dream. It had to be, had to be a dream.

"Or you can make love to me slowly," Anna continued. "Or…any other way as well. Anything, any way… Any way that I can be with you, I am overjoyed by."

"Me too," he rasped, his hand finding her face again and beginning to stroke it.

She watched his eyes. They seemed to show a mixture of desire, love, discomfort and embarrassment. "We haven't had a conversation about this before, have we?" she teased.

"No."

Anna giggled. "It seems natural, though, it seems…"

"Yes." John nodded, running his fingers through her messy hair. "With you, it is so completely natural..."

Anna moved her body closer, snuggling into his neck. "Talking to you is completely natural."

"Yes…" He ran his hands down her arm and over her back. "We can talk about anything. Anything you want, my love. I'd tell you anything."

"Welcome home."

Squeezing her closer, John broke into a massive grin. "Thankyou, Anna, that… It means so much more to have you here to welcome me. I can't tell you what it means to me."

"Nor can I." Anna's voice was muffled by his neck, on which she was placing several kisses.

"Sorry, can you breathe there?" John's hands came up to her head, trying to guide it.

"I'm fine. Just loving being this close to you."

"Hey, hang on." His fingers stopped in her hair, fingering a hair clip. "What's this?"

"What's what?" Anna's voice still sounded muffled.

"Anna! We got so carried away, we never let down your hair!"

"Oh!" Anna chuckled, remembering how much he had enjoyed that last time. She moved her hand up to the clip.

"No, no, let me."

"Alright." Relinquishing her hold on him, Anna gave her husband two soft kisses on the lips before sitting up. She took hold of the sheet, considering pulling it up above her breasts, but she decided against it. He was her husband, and it was a warm night. He followed her, hugging her from behind and pressing several kisses onto her shoulder, before turning his attention to her hair.

He was so gentle. Every pin, every clip, he removed with the utmost care, and every lock that came free, he ran his fingers through ever so lightly. It took some time, and it made her feel wonderful. There was something about being the object of such intricate attention, especially from him. Her entire body tingled.

As the last lock came free, John leaned forward, burying his face in her silken hair as he held her tightly from behind, breathing deeply, drinking in her mesmerising scent.

Her eyes still closed with the feeling of utter relaxation, she turned her head slowly until she found his lips. They kissed softly and slowly, just as they used to do in rare private moments before they were married, when propriety ruled the day and they had to be careful not to go too far. No tongues, no passion. Just soft lips and sweet, sweet love.

It could have gone on forever, but eventually Anna's back became tired of sitting up without anything to lean on, and she collapsed back onto the pillow. John remained sitting, staring down at her with absolute adoration in his eyes.

"Come here," she told him.

He came towards her, but remained propped up on his left elbow, his right hand alternately running through her hair, and moving down her face and torso in soft, long strokes. "Anna Bates," he whispered. "You are the most beautiful woman who has ever lived. Or will ever live."

Anna smiled, blushing just slightly at the way his eyes were roaming over her naked body. "What if we have a daughter?" she asked.

"Then she will be your equal, but no-one could ever top you, not ever."

"Come here."

His lips met hers, and John made love to her slowly.