A/N: So sorry that it took so long to update this story! I was incredibly heartened by the response to the first chapter—thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. The holidays were crazy busy (Happy New Year!) and my writing came to stand still, but I did always have this story in the back of my mind.

Congrats to everyone that got last chapter's astute reader question correct—yes, the day modern John and Anna met was the 100th anniversary of their initial meeting at Downton. And yes, to everyone that mentioned it was also tax day in the US, John did file his taxes on time. We can't have him going to jail for tax evasion. He served enough time in his previous life.

Finally, thanks to Ephoard for helping me a while back brainstorm modern John's literary and musical tastes!

Chapter 2:

Anna hated flying. Even though she traveled two to three times a month, she couldn't stand it. She liked to be in control of her surroundings. Maybe it stemmed from the lack she had over her familial situation growing up or perhaps it came from her dysfunctional marriage, but Anna didn't want to hand the keys over to anyone in her life. She needed to be in charge every step of the way. And at twenty thousand feet she most definitely was not in control.

She settled down into the window seat and took her iPhone out of her bag. Some music might calm her nerves before take-off. She briefly looked over at the twenty-something looking student who was placing his beat-up backpack in the overheard compartment above her. A thread of disappointment coursed through her. Normally, she paid scant attention to her seatmate, no more than a smile and a brief hello, but she couldn't help thinking how much she would rather be sitting next to someone else on this flight.

John Bates. That's what he said his name was. He was . . . intriguing. She couldn't help being captivated by him and she wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because he was American, but Anna had never particularly been attracted to Americans before. Or maybe it was because he was older. Without a doubt he had some years on her. The crow's feet coming from the corners of his eyes gave him a weathered, yet distinguished look. And despite his attempt to brush of her admiration, Anna was still quite impressed with what he did for a living. He was a fascinating man, but that wasn't all.

There was something more; a familiarity about him that she couldn't place. She spent the first ten minutes of their conversation racking her brain trying to figure out if they had met before. There was just such an unexpected ease between them. Anna prided herself in being friendly with all, but she didn't usually divulge her personal life to mere acquaintances, not to mention strangers. Somehow he had made it so easy. Dear god, had she really prattled on about that old dream . . . and her marriage to Mac?

She could feel her face flush at the thought. He must think her crazy going on about her ex. She turned and rested her forehead on the window. The glass immediately cooled her heated face. She felt the university student sit down in the seat next to her. As she began to put in her ear buds, she caught her seatmate out of the corner of her eye.

The twenty-something was nowhere to be seen. In his place with a slight, almost nervous smile sat none other than man occupying her thoughts.

"What? . . . How did you?" Anna stumbled over her words.

"Call it a random act of kindness. Just thought that kid might enjoy a flight in first class."

All she could do was stare. Words were having trouble forming as her mouth hung open. It must have unnerved John.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not." A smile began to split her face as the use of the English language returned to her. "That is if you don't mind giving up several inches of leg room."

"I think I can manage," John assured her as he settled more into his seat.

Lord, she could swear his eyes were twinkling. How she wished had more experience with men. She was twenty eight years old and had no idea how to handle a man flirting with her . . . if that was indeed what he was doing. She wasn't even sure. She had been so young, barely nineteen, when she met Mac. He had been her first and only real romance. It had seemed so right at the time, but now she wondered if she had been fooling herself from day one, just looking for someone one to love her . . . to fill the empty holes in her life.

But if she learned anything from her disastrous marriage it was that she didn't need to be in relationship to be whole. She could be happy and well-adjusted and . . . single. Of course, not if her best mate Lynnie had her way. Ever since Anna left Mac, her friend had been on a mission to fix her up which was rather ironic since Lynnie prided herself as a dyed-in-the-wool feminist. Yet when it came to romance, she turned into a gooey puddle of EastEnders. Sure, on the surface, Lynnie understood Anna's need to be on her own, but it didn't stop her from trying to drag her out to the clubs each Friday night in search of true love.

Anna didn't want to go clubs. Heck, she hadn't wanted to go to clubs when she had been eighteen. Besides she'd wager that true love was rarely found there. All she wanted to do was concentrate on building her career. Not only was it an area of her life she felt in complete control, she was damn good at what she did. She excelled in her current position; possessing an uncanny knack for determining which properties showed the most promise. Her tireless hours working her way up the ladder at Concord Hotels was beginning to pay off. There was talk that the company was going to expand and open up offices both on the continent and in America. Anna didn't want to miss out on such opportunities if they should come about. The last thing she needed was a man to muck up her plans. But heaven help her, she couldn't deny that her heart started beating double time the moment John sat down next to her.

Before they could talk anymore the pre-flight safety video began and the plane's engines rumbled to life. Anna's heart sped up even more, this time from pure adrenaline. God, she hated to fly. She took a firm hold of the armrests and closed her eyes wishing herself to calm down.

"Not a fan of flying?"

Anna's eyes fluttered open. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, you do have the armrests in a death grip."

She puffed a little laugh, "I'll be better once we get up and level off."

The plane began to taxi down the runway. Anna held her breath. Takeoff was the worst. She noticed John had moved his hand next to hers. She had an irrational urge to take hold of it. Cripes! What was she thinking? She had just met this man.

"You know. . ." John began as the plane lifted off the ground.

"I know, I know . . . flying is the safety mode of travel. I've it heard it all before," Anna interrupted on an unsteady breath.

"That is true, but I was actually thinking about the pilots."

"The pilots?"

"When it comes to flying you're in good hands because the pilots know what they're doing."

"Well, I certainly hope so," Anna huffed turning to look at John momentarily forgetting her fear.

"Yes, but what I meant to say is most pilots, at least on American and European flights, are former military. Not only do they possess expert flying skills, but they know all about the mechanics. Trust me, I knew enough pilots in the Navy to know that there was no way they would get into a plane unless they believed it to be in good working order."

Anna reflected on his words as the plane reverberated gaining altitude; the ascent barely noticeable. "I suppose I never thought of it that way."

"And most of these guys depending on their age have seen some sort of combat. So after that flying a big bus with wings with nobody shooting at them is a piece of cake."

She wasn't sure if it was what he was saying or the warmth of his voice, but Anna did feel measurably better. The stress in her shoulders was dissipating. By the time the plane began to level out, her breathing was almost back to normal.

She heard a sharp ding. The all-clear was given to move around the cabin. Traditionally, this was Anna's cue to relax. Funny, John's presence had already settled her quite a bit.

"Thanks for keeping up the conversation. I fly all the time, but I still manage to get a bit frantic when we lift off. Plus I just read an article this morning about the big anniversary. Didn't exactly bolster my confidence in traveling."

"Anniversary?"

"Oh, you probably didn't hear about it . . . of course you didn't hear about it, you've been living in Afghanistan for heaven's sake." At his confused look, she continued, "Today is the one hundredth anniversary of the Titanic sinking. It's was a quite a big deal in Britain with lots of new stories, even a new cheesy TV mini-series."

"So you were afraid our plane would sink . . . I mean, crash today?" A small grin formed and damned if his eyes weren't twinkling again. She wasn't sure if John thought her truly a dolt or if he was just engaging in good-natured teasing.

"I think we'll make it," Anna answered laughing. "But thanks to you take-off wasn't so bad. Usually my music is all I have to calm my nerves before a flight and I have to turn it off before actually taking off."

John nodded down at her phone. "So what do you like to listen to?"

"What? When I'm flying?"

John shrugged. "Flying or in general?"

Feeling a bit off-guard and flustered, Anna just handed over her phone to him.

"Here have a look yourself."

The phone was small in his big hands and his fingers moved clumsily over the screen.

"I'm not sure I know what I'm doing. I'm a bit of a technophobe."

Anna had to grin at his technological insecurity. "Oh, you're doing just fine."

After getting the hang of the touch screen, John began to peruse her music looking over occasionally. Now it was her turn to feel apprehensive. She tried hard to remember what artists and songs she had downloaded. She only listened to it on flights and sometimes on the tube to and from work.

He kept scrolling. One eyebrow was now raised along with a ghost of a smile. Oh jeez, what did she have on her playlist?

"Well, you seem rather fond of Alanis Morrisette."

Anna rolled her eyes. "That's the work of my best mate. After I left my husband, she thought I might become so depressed I'd go back with him. So she downloaded all the Alanis Morrisette man-hating music she could find to make sure I would never ever consider getting back with Mac." She shook her head. "Not that it was necessary. There was no way I could after what he did."

God, had she really just said that? Anna could tell John wanted to ask what. Those green eyes of his beckoned her. In some ways, it'd be nice to lay it all out. But no . . . she just met this man. He didn't want to hear about it. He didn't care. Why would he? She looked into his eyes again. Maybe . . . he did care.

She shook her head. "Sorry, more rambling."

"No, it's all right." John had turned back to phone. "Now Norah Jones that seems more you."

"I do fancy her music. She's sort of a throwback to an earlier time."

"I agree. Her music is smooth . . . natural . . . classy. It fits you."

Her face began to redden. She couldn't even remember the last time a man's words made her blush. Okay, enough of this. She couldn't stand being the center of discussion.

"All right, Mr. Bates," she teased taking a formal tone. "You know all about my musical tastes. How about yours?"

He paused for only a moment. She could almost see the wheels at work in his mind before nodding and giving back her phone, "Fair is fair."

John dug reached into the inner pocket of his cargo jacket and pulled out a first generation iPod. Anna hadn't seen one of those since her university days.

"Wow, I didn't know anyone still used those." She couldn't help remarking as John handed it over to her.

"I told you I was a bit of a technophobe. My sister gave it to me while I was on active duty and deployed for long stretches. It still works, so I never really saw the need to upgrade."

Anna was heartened by his modest explanation. So many people these days had to have the latest gadget, the newest technology. Mac had certainly been that way. For him it had represented status, a place in society, even if they didn't have the resources to buy such items. Perhaps it was because John was older, but whatever the reason she respected his thrift and common sense.

She took a second to familiarize herself with the click wheel before beginning to investigate his choices.

"Johnny Cash. . . Bob Dylan . . . A big fan of the Beatles, I see."

"I am. Aren't all you Brits?"

"I like them well enough. Just before my time that's all." As soon as the words left her mouth, Anna winced. She hadn't meant to imply anything about his age.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call them contemporaries either. I was still in diapers when they broke up."

"Of course you were," Anna agreed looking back down at the iPod quickly completely missing John's bemused look. "Oh, you even have some of their more obscure songs on here. I absolutely adore Across the Universe."

"Me too," John agreed turning a bit in his seat to face here more easily. "There's just something about that song . . . even with John's bizarre chorus."

"More of a Paul fan, huh?"

"Definitely. Don't even get me started on Yoko Ono."

Anna couldn't help giggling. John was just so different from the men she knew. Not just Mac, but also the guys she went to university with or worked in her office. He was pleasant, polite, intelligent, so easy to talk with and . . . rather good looking if she was being completely honest with herself, but also there was a maturity that wasn't often seen in men (if she could even call them that) her own age.

She continued down his playlist. "Miles Davis. I've never really listened to much jazz before."

"His music is amazing, but mostly I listen to it when I have trouble sleeping."

"Because of your dream?"

"Among other things," John confirmed looking away. He was hiding something. She had caught a glimpse of it earlier in the airport when she had asked about what he did for a living. He was definitely guarded, but it was more than that. There was sadness lingering. It might be firmly buried, but it was there. Even though she had only known him for a short time, she knew he had secrets. Ones he had never shared with anyone. Ones he was ashamed to share with anyone.

Anna shook her head. Snap out of it, Anna. Dear god, there she went again. She didn't know this man from Adam. How silly of her to presume anything about his personal life.

"About made it to the end?"

At the sound of John's voice, she returned her attention to the iPod. "Yes, just about."

She kept scrolling. Her finger paused and a chuckle escaped followed by a full belly laugh.

"What is it?"

"Well, I never would have pegged you listening to The Sound of Music."

John joined in her laughter but she couldn't help notice his cheeks and ears were turning slightly pink. His embarrassment was endearing. "What can I say, my mother was an English teacher and directed all the school plays and musicals. I was subjected to Broadway indoctrination at an early age."

"I'm just having a hard time imaging you as a burly soldier in some dangerous place listening to "I am Sixteen Going on Seventeen."

John still smiled, but his eyes were sad again. "Just shows you things aren't always as they appear.

She got the feeling he wasn't just talking about musical preferences.

Anna couldn't remember a flight she enjoyed more. They had kept up an easy patter of conversation. Nothing too serious, just friendly chatting. He shared the mini-rolls and she offered up some crisps from her bag. Her face was actually sore from smiling so much, but she didn't mind. She hadn't felt this light and . . . well, happy in months. Being thousands of feet off the ground wasn't even a concern. John's company was making the flight go extremely fast. She had already felt the plane begin to drop in altitude in preparation for landing.

She looked over as John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, raising both arms over his head stretching out his long torso. Lord, he was a large man. As he twisted a bit, she saw him grimace. He couldn't be comfortable. Not with his six foot plus frame all scrunched up. It also didn't help that the man in front of him had his seat reclined back all the way.

"John, why don't you switch seats with me? You'd be much more comfortable." The lady in front of her still had her seat in the upright position.

"Nah, I'm fine," he waved her off.

"No, you're not. You were supposed to have a pleasant flight in first class, not stuffed in coach."

"No really, I'm fine."

"John Bates, I will not take no for an answer."

Anna stood up and waited for John to follow suit. He stared hard at her seemingly weighing his options, and then briefly surveyed the cabin. With a sigh of defeat, he stood up.

"You don't give up, do you?"

"Never," she retorted with a grin.

But the grin rapidly vanished from her face as he eased behind her, his front to her back, to reach the window seat. His chest was hard against her and his breath hovered above. It smelled of chocolate, obviously from the mini-rolls, but with a hint of peppermint. Even though she knew he was out of his seat and into hers in a matter of a few seconds, time slowed for Anna.

With John seated, she took his old one. It was warm and comfortably used. She observed John as he gave his legs a good stretch while glancing out the window. She was still watching him when he turned back to her. Instead of the friendly face she had grown accustomed to, John had a more serious countenance.

"What is it, John?"

He paused before shaking his head. "Nothing . . . really. It's just we're flying awfully low even though we're still a ways from London."

"Oh god, something's wrong," Anna worried taking hold off the armrests again.

"We're probably just avoiding turbulence or something like that. I'm sure it's alright." John tried to reassure but Anna noted he didn't look her in the eye.

"Except you're not sure. . ."

Before he could answer, the sound system crackled to life.

"This is your captain speaking. I'm afraid we've run into some trouble. . ."

"Christ! We're going to die. It's just like the bloody Titanic," Anna squawked and took hold of John's hand as the pilot continued.

"As you might have noticed we're flying at a lower altitude. That's because we're being forced to by a natural occurrence out of our control."

There was a nervous murmur around the plane. Anna closed her eyes. This wasn't happening. She couldn't die. Not now when she was finally pulling her life together. Not now when she had so many opportunities in front of her. Before she could go into full panic mode, she felt a gentle but strong squeeze from the hand she held.

"You might recall a few years back that a volcano in Iceland erupted sending dangerous ash into the atmosphere and effectively halting all air travel for a while. Well . . . it's happened again. After we became airborne, the same volcano . . . and please don't ask me to pronounce it . . . erupted. The volcanic ash can be extremely hazardous if it makes its way into the plane's engine. The ash most likely hasn't made its way this far east yet, but we're not taking any chances. Since the risk is usually greater at higher altitudes, we've lowered our flying altitude. We should now be able to avoid the ash and land in London without any problems."

A general sigh of relief filtered through the cabin. A thumb ran over her fingers gently. Anna opened her eyes and found John with one of those half smiles of his. Anna briefly wondered how she could already know his smiles, but somehow she did.

"Now for the bad news. The Civil Aviation Authority has cancelled all flights in and out of the UK for the foreseeable future. Most likely a least a week since that's how long air space was closed during the last eruption. So if London wasn't your final destination, you now have an unexpected holiday there. We'll keep you posted for any further developments. We should be putting down in about forty minutes. Thanks so much for your patience."

"Looks like my layover will be longer than I thought," John quipped. His hand still firmly held Anna's. She wanted to remove it . . . but not just yet. "Although a much better scenario than the plane crashing."

"Indeed it is." She shyly disentangled her hand from his and pushed her hair behind her ears. "Thank you for your calming presence once again."

"Not a problem. You had every right to be alarmed."

"But still . . ." Anna shook her head slightly in embarrassment and giggled. "Did I really say something like 'we're going down like the Titanic'?"

She could tell John was trying to hold back a laugh and doing a poor job of it. "Well, all I can say, if we had been going down I couldn't want for a better seatmate."

Anna's heart fluttered at his simple words.

Suitcases dropped onto the luggage carousel with soft thuds. Anna scanned for her black bag with its purple tag, but she wasn't looking too hard. She was more concerned with him and what she was going to say to him.

They had parted back at customs; her queue much shorter than the one for non-nationals. They could have said their goodbyes right then and there, but before he could say anything she told him she'd meet him in the baggage claim area and scurried off.

She just wasn't ready to see him walk out of her life. John Bates was the most fascinating person she had meet in a long time. Once she had gotten over the initial shock that she wasn't going to die in some fiery crash, Anna began to wonder what John was going to do now that he was marooned in London. Did he know anyone in the city or the whole of England for that matter? Would he even want to see her again? Spending a couple hours on a plane was one thing, seeing somebody in the real world was another thing all together.

She spied her bag hit the carousel and readied herself to yank it off. Just as she took hold of it and began to pull, a large hand joined hers on the handle.

"Let me."

"Thank you," Anna looked over her shoulder at John. "Did you have any trouble getting through customs?"

"A little."

"Why is that?"

"Anytime you travel to Afghanistan it raises flags."

"But you work for a relief charity. Surly they didn't think you were a terrorist."

"Ultimately no, but that's the problem. What does a terrorist look like? Young or old? Man or woman? Dressed a certain way? Does reality match our stereotypes?

John's questions were hypothetical, but Anna sensed there was a deeper implication to his words that she wasn't privy to. She began to wonder how familiar he was with terrorism. What exactly had he done in the military?

"Well, I'm hoping you're not one because there's something I'd like to ask you." Anna licked her lips before continuing. "What are your plans now that you're stuck here?"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose get a room at one of the hotels near the airport if they have space. I didn't bring much work with me, so I guess I'll just relax and read some."

"I was thinking . . . "Anna took a deep breath and screwed up the courage. If there was one thing that could be said about her it was once she decided to do something she didn't back down.

A long second passed as John gave her a part quizzical, part encouraging look.

"I was thinking. . ." she began again. ". . .you could stay with me while there's no flights."

His face was unreadable except for a small flicker of emotion in his eyes. There was surprise there. Also warmth with a hint of melancholy.

"I couldn't possibly impose like that."

"You wouldn't be at all," Anna insisted. He was shaking his head. "Really, I want you to."

"But you've got a busy job and life. You don't need a houseguest getting in your way."

"You wouldn't be in the way." She began to dig her feet in. "You're stuck in the city for at least a week. Why stay in a dreary hotel by the airport? I have an extra bedroom with a perfectly comfy futon."

"Anna, I don't know if it would be right. . ."

Her frustration was beginning to bubble. "Look John, I don't go around inviting men to my flat every day. In fact, I've never done it before. I didn't mean to imply. . ."

"I never thought that you did. Anna, I . . ."

She needed to press her case and Anna believed in honesty. "The truth is I'd like to see you some more . . . before you head home."

John was silent. He just stared at the circling luggage for a few seconds before facing her.

"I'd like to see more of you too," he shyly acknowledged. "Okay, I accept your offer."

"Oh, fantastic!"

"But I insist that you let me pay you. . ."

"Unheard of. You're my guest, not a boarder."

"How about groceries?" John suggested as he grabbed his suitcase off the carousel. "Or maybe take care of meals? I'm actually a half decent cook."

"Well. . ." Anna hedged as he grabbed both their suitcases and they headed for the exit. "I may take you up on the cooking."

"You don't like to cook?"

"Let's just say, I don't spend too much time in the kitchen. You might need to run to the store. Currently, all that's in the refrigerator is hunk of cheese and a jar of marmalade." Anna grinned mischievously before adding, "But there are plenty of snacks in the cupboards."

It was late afternoon before they arrived at her flat. By the time they got their baggage and made their way on the tube, it was lunchtime. Given the lack of provisions in her refrigerator, Anna suggested they stop at one of the local pubs for their midday meal. For the next few hours with their luggage at their feet, John and Anna relaxed and began to really get to know one another.

Anna was a little nervous walking John into her place. It wasn't spacious, not like the one she had shared with Mac, but it was homey and served all her needs. She led him past the tiny living room/dining room to the extra bedroom that served as her office if she ever had a yearning for an actual desk, usually she just sat in bed with her laptop. Besides the computer desk, there was a small dresser and the futon.

"Well, here it is. It's not huge, especially by your American standards, but hopefully it's comfortable."

"It's just fine, Anna. Thanks."

She walked over to the futon and began to unfold it.

"Shall I give you a hand?"

"Ah, would you. It takes half the time with two."

In the moment that it took for him to cross the room, Anna saw another room. The morning sun shone through large windows. John was there. Talking with her. Helping her. There was more being said than the actual words spoken.

After getting the mattress in place Anna retrieved some fresh sheets and a comforter. She set them down on the futon and walked over to John who had just opened his carry-on bag.

"Well, I'll leave you be. Unfortunately, I've got to get some work done. I present my findings on the Romanian estate tomorrow. Feel free to watch the telly in the living room or use the computer in here if you want to go online."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, but I think I'll just take it easy and read a bit." He nodded down to a small pile of books he had pulled out of his bag. On top lay Kerouac's On the Road. She craned her neck a little to read the spine of the other two. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf and Thoreau's classic Walden. A curious lot indeed.

"You know, they do make e-book readers. They're a might easier when traveling."

"I've already told you about me and my dubious relationship with electronics. But it's more than that, there's something about holding a book in your own two hands. The weight of it. The feel of each page beneath my fingertips. The smell sometimes new, sometimes musty. Cracking the cover for the first time. A heady feeling, really. One I wouldn't want to give up."

God help her, but Anna's mind was wondering to places it shouldn't. Surely he didn't mean anything suggestive by his words. She flushed and looked down to the dresser where John had emptied his pants pockets. Beside a wallet and a pile of change lay a shiny gold pocket watch. She picked it up. She couldn't help herself. It called to her.

"May I?" With his nod, she lifted it up for closer inspection.

"It's beautiful, John."

It was heavier than she thought. Warm to her touch; his body heat still radiated from it. On the outside an ornate "JB" was etched in the gold. She opened it up to find more engravings.

With all my love.

Christmas, 1915

She was touched by the humble words. They rang true in her heart, her memory. She did not know why but they did.

Nodding at the inscription. "Has this watch been passed down through your family?"

John shook his head. "You'd think so, but no. It actually came to me by way of an elderly neighbor who died when I was just a kid. She had been fond of me and my sister. By chance she shared the same last name. I don't know; maybe that's why she liked us so much. Either way, she didn't have any family so when she passed away she willed the watch to me and some jewelry to Susan."

He paused for a second as if deciding how much he wanted to share, but as Anna shut the watch he continued, "I'm not sure how it happened exactly but it became my good luck charm. I carried it with me for every mission I ever went on in the Navy. I carry it now when I'm working in Afghanistan. It's gone everywhere with me."

His eyes lost focus and his voiced sounded sad. "Not that everything I've seen has been good, but I always made it out alive. I know it's silly to hold superstitions, but I can't help but put that watch in my pocket every day."

Anna wanted to ask about what he had seen, but knew now wasn't that time. She handed him the watch and couldn't help but hold her breath as his fingers brushed hers. Something was happening here. She wasn't sure exactly what, but something.

She backed out of the room before she could do or say anything she would regret.

"Well, have fun reading. I was thinking we might order some Chinese take away for dinner considering the current state of my refrigerator."

"Sounds great. I could go for some moo goo gai pan. But tomorrow leave the meal up to me. I think you'll be in for a surprise."

As Anna left the bedroom, she wondered what else about John might surprise her. He had secrets; she was sure of it. But whether he would choose to share those secrets with her . . . well, that she was not sure of at all.

A/N: Astute reader question: What are Lynnie and Mac's identities in the past? Any guesses? Since this is the first "mystery" I've ever written, I'm curious if I am presenting too much, too little, just the right amount of information as the story progresses. Would love your feedback!

Hope you enjoyed it! I'll try not to take so long between chapters next time.