A/N: Pure smut, almost AU, bare-bones plot, and in light of last night's episode, redundant. But, there's not enough M-rated Anna/Bates stuff right now - the M/M shippers seem to have taken over, so I thought I would fill the gap. Besides, I'm getting tired of the wait. I swear if Bates tells her to be patient again, I'll scream.

The Way it Should Be...

It didn't take the news long to get from London to Downton. Mary heard it first, but Bates was a close second.

"She did what?" he said as he came around the corner. Robert and Mary looked up at him in shocked surprise - as much as for the tone of his voice as the look on his face. "She did what?" he asked again.

Finally Robert regained his composure. "She shot Sir Richard Carlisle."

Bates sank into one of the chairs. "Shot him? When, where? Bates found himself unable to sustain any coherent thought.

"In London, in his office," Mary replied. Even in his shock, it registered with Bates that Mary seemed terribly composed.

"Is he alright?" Bates asked?

Robert looked at Mary, "No. I'm afraid he's dead."

Bates looked from one to the other, his face a mixture of pain and fury and disbelief. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." He looked up at Lady Mary. "I'm so sorry, m'lady."

Mary surprised Bates by placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be, Bates. It's not your fault. It's Vera's fault." She was looking at him oddly. "But..." He stopped as he felt her hand tighten on his shoulder.

"What I can't understand," Robert interrupted, "is why she was there at all?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Much later, when the furor and fuss had died down, and the others had gone to bed, Bates found himself seeking Anna. He hadn't seen her since he heard the news, but he knew she must know by now. After several minutes of searching, he found her in the back corner of the kitchen gardens, sitting on a crate with her back against the wall.

"Anna?" His voice betrayed a measure of uncertainty coupled with unconscious pleading. He was almost ashamed to hear the plaintiveness of his voice. But he needed her.

"I'm here." She moved over to allow him to sit next to her.

"I can't believe she did it. I knew she was unstable, but dangerous?" He sighed. "Poor Lady Mary." Anna sighed. "I know, it is an awful thing." Anna turned to look at him. "She didn't love him. She was only marrying him because of what happened with Mr. Pamuk." She took his hand, "You mustn't blame yourself."

"How can I not?" he replied, more harshly than he intended. "Vera was only here because of me. She took the job at the Flintshire's because of me. She threatened to ruin the Crawley's because of me." He looked away from her. "I've done nothing but bring misery to those I love, nothing but bring pain." His hand tightened on Anna's almost to the point of pain, then he let go and turned away from her. "I am so ashamed." Head down, he sat dejectedly, silent tears of grief spilling from his eyes. Grief at his life with Vera, grief at the loss of his mother, grief at the pain he brought Lord Grantham, and grief for the knowledge that this one thing would probably cost him Anna.

Anna's heart broke to see him so distraught.

"John, look at me." Anna took him by the shoulders. "Look at me." Nothing, but silent tears. Anna sat back, unwilling to give up, but not sure what to do to persuade him to look at her, to talk to her. Suddenly, before she could think twice, she stood up, moved in front of him, put her hands on his shoulders and climbed up to straddle his lap.

"Now you have no choice, John Bates. You will listen to me." Bates's eyes went wide at what she was doing, but before he could suggest that maybe this wasn't a good idea, Anna was kissing him, and kissing him in such a way that he went hard immediately. Her tongue teased at his lips, beckoning him, he responded and put his arms around her back to steady her as she lifted her skirts up and out of the way.

She was snug against him, her hips, rocking, grinding, he could feel her heat through his clothes, as she could feel his desire through hers. The only things separating them were the fabric of his trousers and her thin cotton undergarments. Anna could feel exactly what she was doing to him, he knew, Not content with the feel of cloth against her fingers. she reached up and undid the studs of his collar, tossing it aside, she began to work on the buttons of his shirt, all the time, her hips continued the motion that was causing him to gasp and sweat. He dropped his hands from her back, lower, to either side of her hips, holding her, moving with her. One hand exploring his chest moved lower until it brushed against him. He gasped, and involuntarily thrust his hips to meet her touch. He whispered her name, as she brought her mouth once more to his. One hand on the skin of his chest, the other stroking between them.

"No fair," he panted against her neck as her hands once again found the warm skin beneath his shirt. Leaving his left hand to support her hip, he brought his right hand down her leg, and snaked it up underneath her skirt. It was her turn to gasp now. His hand fumbled with the stays of her garters, smoothing a path up her thigh. He paused to shift her slightly back, then slid his hand between them, seeking the warmth of her core, the place he so longed to reach. Despite his need, his exploration was tentative. He drew his fingers across the sodden fabric that separated them, amazed at how wet she was. He watched her face as he stroked her, her eyes closed, her head back. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as he moved aside the fabric and allowed himself to have that first touch of skin on skin. As he parted her, he gasped at the wetness he found there, at the heat that drew him. Slowly, gently, he stroked that hard nub at her center. Anna gave a low throaty moan in response to his touch, grinding her hips into him, whispering her love. Her response to his touch was a wondrous thing. He never in his wildest dreams expected this gift. This was becoming dangerous, and his need to possess her was was so hard that he was afraid that soon he would be unable to stop.

"Anna," he whispered hoarsely, as he removed his hand from between them.

"Anna. I don't want the first time to be like this." He brought his arms up around her back, pulling her close to him. "I want you properly, not fumbling in the dark, half-clothed, silent." He moved her back. "I want to see you. I want to hear you call my name." He kissed her again. "Anna, I want you in my bed, not here in these wretched gardens"

Anna, face flushed, breathing heavy, placed her hands on either side of his face. "Then, John Bates, I suggest you find us a bed, because I have waited four years for this moment, and I am not waiting any longer."

"And if I should get you with child?" He winced at the harshness of his words, tried to soften them with a kiss. Anna was having none of it. She thrust her hips into him again causing his hands to tighten on her waist.

"Then I will have your baby. We are going to be married. We can do it here at Downton, or go to Scotland, or travel to Ealing for all I bloody well care. But I am going to marry you, and you are going to take me to bed tonight and show me what I have been missing."

Sweet Jesus, Bates thought. "Anna, are you..." he was stopped by another kiss.

"John Bates if you ask me once more if I'm sure, or if I know what I'm doing, or tell me to be patient, then I swear I will walk out of Downton, into the village, and ask Mr. Mosely if he wouldn't like to go courting."

John regarded her cautiously for a moment, then said "Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

TBC in a very M part 2. Some hidden nods to Red Nose Day's Uptown Downstairs Abbey.