So, this is a bit of a random idea that struck me today as I was playing Tetris. And, since I had a day of laziness planned, this is born! I don't know yet how long it will be, but my plan at the moment covers... *checks* thirteen chapters. But I'm appalling at sticking to the plan! Anyway, I'll shut up now. The usual disclaimer; I don't own Downton. Or John. Unfortunately.

Ending Things

They had been caught.

It had been months now, since John was set free, and since he finally gave himself to Anna. They had kept their secret for two months, twenty days, six hours. He could always say, to the hour, nearly to the minute, how long it had been since they made themselves this secret, and he knew how she loved that. But, eventually, they had slipped up. One stolen kiss too many, sneaking out to the yard too close together, and they had been seen. By Mrs Hughes.

And now they stood in silence, side by side and not close enough, in Mr Carson's pantry, answering questions nervously and trying not to get themselves into any more trouble. John had never felt lower, nor more alone. Every atom of him longed to just take Anna's hand, she was obviously as distressed as he was and he only wished he could comfort her in some small way. But they were just that little bit too far apart, and they'd be seen. They hadn't wanted to provoke any further anger. They couldn't make things worse.

"And how long has this been going on?" Mrs Hughes demanded, forcing him from his thoughts. He let Anna answer, something too specific, he was certain, would do more against them than for them. They hadn't been where they were supposed to be, at the time.

"A couple of months," Anna said, quietly, her voice a little hoarse. John risked a sideways glance in her direction – she was very pale, shaking just a little, and her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Mr Carson cleared his throat, and John's eyes shot back into position, staring at a point low down on the far wall.

"That isn't relatively long," John heard him say in an undertone to Mrs Hughes, and he felt his heart surge. What did that mean? What did all this mean, for him and Anna?

"You didn't feel it was necessary to tell us?" Mrs Hughes asked, apparently moving past Mr Carson's comment.

"We couldn't afford to marry within the next year at least. We decided to wait until nearer the time," John explained, hoping that it wasn't too unacceptable a reason. They couldn't have had an engagement in the open for that long, people would start asking questions, would completely scrutinise their every move. It made sense.

"Well," Mr Carson said firmly, after a moment, "you've been cooperative. And this doesn't seem to have affected your work, so you're going to be given a choice."

John didn't like the sound of that, but he braced himself and felt Anna doing the same beside him. At least they had something, anyway.

"There is a condition on which you can keep your positions here, if you choose to," Mr Carson continued, "and that is that you end this entanglement at once."

It was like a shockwave flooding through his body. End it! End everything with Anna and go back to being her friend, just her friend. Could he do that? He couldn't imagine life without Anna sharing it. But he had nowhere else to go, he couldn't let her lose her job. Nobody would take her on, with a reason like this for leaving here. He couldn't be without her but he couldn't see her ruined.

"But we can't possibly-"

It was Anna speaking up, and he had to step in quickly. "Can we have some time to talk about this?" he said smoothly, not pretending the ultimatum hadn't upset him but not . He felt Anna turn to face him, he looked at her and saw the anger and betrayal in her face. Oh, Anna, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Take as much time as you need," Mrs Hughes said, her tone a little softer. John nodded, meeting her eyes for a moment to express his thanks, and led Anna out the door and straight for their yard.

"John Bates," she said, as soon as it was certain that they really were alone. Her tone was dark, her expression furious, and it sent chills down his spine. "You had better have a very good explanation for even considering this."

"I do," he said, quietly, and took her by the arm to lead her towards a stack of crates. She flinched at his touch, but didn't pull away.

When they were seated and settled, he spoke again, taking her hand between his two. "Anna, you know I love you, don't you? Tell me that you know how much I love you."

"I do know," she said, looking a little confused but not much less angry. "Do you think that makes this any better?"

"Just let me finish," he said, perhaps a little more sharply than he intended. He paused, softening his tone when he continued. "I love you, so much more than I knew was possible, and the idea of being without you frankly terrifies me. I don't know that I can handle it. But there are things we have to consider." He held up a hand when he saw her open her mouth to protest, momentarily silencing her. "If we left here, where would we go? What would we do? Nobody would take us on with this stain on the records. You have nobody else to give you a reference, I have a bad enough record as it is. We can't marry on nothing, we can't live on nothing. If we went away, we'd still be forced apart. There's no option other than for us to stay here."

He stopped, making it clear that for now, at least, he was done. She withdrew her hand sharply, furious. "You're telling me that you are willing to end everything we have, everything we've ever hoped for? We made so many plans, John! We had such a future! And you're giving that up – for a job?"

"You're not listening," he began, but suddenly it didn't seem the wisest thing for him to say, when her flat hand connected with his face, making a sharp, enormous sound that echoed all around them and rang in his ears. He stopped a moment, stunned, and then he grabbed at her hands to keep them still, trying to meet her eyes. She turned her face away so that he couldn't, struggling against his firm hold.

"You promised me you'd never end this," she said, anger in her tone and fury obviously running through her body. There were tears in her voice. "I can't believe you could break that promise!"

"I am not ending this, Anna! I can't live without you and I don't intend to try it. Don't you see that there's very little we can do here! I am saying that maybe we stay here. We tell them that we're ending our entanglement, as they put it, and we go on working as we have done. It will take hard work and a lot of acting but we stay together, and then maybe two years from now we get married and we leave all this behind." He released her wrists, seeing that she wasn't going to fight him, and he reached for her face, turning her to look at him. Her face was red with crying, and she wiped at it forcefully, trying to get rid of her tears. "Anna, I need you so much, and this is the only way. Please."

He waited as she appeared to consider, the silence punctuated by sniffles for a full three minutes before she spoke.

"It would be so hard," she said slowly. "We couldn't sneak out together. I'd have to pretend to be angry with you all the time, and you'd have to pretend to feel like it was deserved. We'd have to avoid each other, we probably couldn't even talk much. If they suggested that one of us take work somewhere else, we might have to be separated for months. We couldn't even write; they'd recognise the handwriting. Do you realise just how hard this could be?"

"Yes," John said firmly. "Yes, it's going to be horribly hard. But it can't be worse than not having each other at all."

"Alright," Anna said, holding his eyes in place and not betraying any kind of emotion. "Stand up, John."

They rose together. She looked him in the eye, and she slapped him forcefully. "Mr Bates, don't you ever make me think this is ending again," she snapped, shaking her hand to get rid of the sting – John had no such luxury. Then she brought her hand to his face again, the other side, and softer. She pulled him towards her and she kissed him deeply, exploring his mouth in new ways that excited him more than he could have thought possible. As they parted, she rested her forehead against his, keeping him in place. John saw that she was crying again, and found to his surprise that he was, too.

Her breath was hot and perfect against his face as she spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Don't you ever end this, John."