A/N: Nearly a year later, I'm back with this fic! It felt like Valentine's was an appropriate time for an update and luckily enough, inspiration struck.

Hope you enjoy!


Chapter 2

Amongst other things, Anna Bates prided herself on being good at her job. She had known very little other than working diligently for most of her life and, aside from the unpleasantness of being roused from sleep at an hour when nobody aside from the birds were awake, had no real complaints. The Crawleys were a most generous family – their kindness specifically affecting her personally in the darkest of her hours, extending beyond what was justified – and she was well aware that they were all in a fortunate position to be serving in this particular household.

Lady Mary might have come off intimidating and somewhat callous to outsiders, but Anna knew that it all came down to trust. She had her inner circle and those that were allowed inside were treated to the warmest and most regarding parts of her nature. Anna was happy to serve the eldest of the Crawley daughters and couldn't have imagined devoting so much of her time on any other of her social superiors, especially not since she had been promoted to lady's maid.

With the role came certain benefits but also greater responsibilities. It wasn't as though she hadn't prepared for the changes, and most of the time it was as if not much had really shifted. Lady Mary had certain requests now that she was a married woman and, being the same, Anna shrugged them off, retaining only a natural hint of embarrassment. She had proved quite a time ago that she was close as possible to being the soul of discretion and very little fazed her. It was not of her concern, she would always tell herself; she had a job to do and she would always strive to do it to the best of her abilities. Some things might make her pause and certainly cause her to sigh, but in the next moment a calm smile would find its way back onto her countenance, the words her mother used to say ringing in her head.

There's a lot we don't want to do in life, but we've got to buckle our boots and wade through the muck as it's the only way we'll end up digging for gold.

Yet as much as she was a good servant, she was only human too. God knows that she didn't crave after gold; her riches came in far more simpler forms, but it was made all the more disappointing when the demands of others caused her uncomplicated comforts to be denied.

The look on Lady Mary's face as she turned from her mirror was halfway between confusion and undisguised amusement, which irritated Anna, though she was doing her utmost not to let any of it show through on her own expression.

"Oh Anna, don't look so downhearted. It's not as though I'm planning an expedition to Timbuktu."

"Sorry, m'lady," she said, though she felt rather aggrieved for having to apologise. Her smile became more exaggerated. "It seems unusual to want to go to London at this time of year. You always say that it's greyer and rains even more than it does up here. Surely you couldn't spend a lot of time out of doors?"

Not to mention that this trip had come completely unannounced; she had told her not five minutes ago of the plans, and said that she wished for train tickets to be purchased for the coming Wednesday, only three days away.

Lady Mary shifted on her seat, believing her expression to be hidden from her maid as she rubbed the rose-scented cream between her fingers and over her hands. The mirror was for the best part in Anna's line of vision and she could quite easily glimpse the smile that had weaved onto her mistress's lips, seeming particular and secretive in its quality, even to her confiding eyes.

"There's a lot to be said for a change of scenery," Lady Mary replied, casting her head back upwards. "I'm rather tired of London in the summer months. And I'm certain that I can handle a couple of downpours."

"Well, if you're sure," Anna uttered, not wishing to sound too dismissive or doubting. She couldn't quite imagine that her mistress would be quite as carefree when her hat, coat and shoes became sodden within minutes of leaving the train. "I'll make sure that I pack more than the one umbrella, just in case."

She busied herself with returning the nightclothes to the wardrobe as Lady Mary continued to sit in front of the mirror, suppressing a sigh as she looked up to the suitcases that sat high above. She was a light traveller, not requiring a change of dress so long as she was able to press her uniform each morning. Lady Mary, however, would require at least two changes per day, perhaps a third given the likely inclement weather of late February and the opportunity to go out of an evening. Of course it was the case that London had more attractions than Yorkshire, and Lady Mary was one to take advantage of the fact.

Her work would be cut out for her over the next couple of days and into the nights, indeed.

"I...I hope I don't sound...impertinent, m'lady," she stumbled over her words, pulling herself up short before she fastened the clasp upon the pendant adorning Lady Mary's neck.

The dark and curious eyes that met her own in the mirror's reflection urged her to go on with what she had intended to say.

"But I just thought...do you really need me to come with you, if it's only going to be a couple of days that you'll be away? I imagine that Mr Crawley would be happy to assist you."

Lady Mary's eyebrows rose upwards, her head quirking on an angle.

"If it were up to Mr Crawley, I doubt that I would ever be dressed at all."

Anna's gaze dropped to the floor and she hid her open mouth with the head of the hairbrush, not stopping the light burst of laughter from leaving her.

"I haven't shocked you, have I, Anna?"

"Not at all, m'lady." She carried on with the task at hand, casting the brush through Lady Mary's tresses with a blush still in her cheeks. It was one thing thinking about her own marital activities, which she was not in the least ashamed of, but to bring to mind someone else's – not least her employer's – was awfully intrusive. "It makes perfect sense. It was wrong of me to suggest..."

She spent longer than usual fixing her mistress's hair into place, keeping a hold of her tongue whilst doing so. She stepped back on her heels when the job was finished, regarding Lady Mary as she turned her head from side to side, her eyes showing no obvious signs of disapproval. After a few moments of silent observation, her lips curved into a smile.

"Don't worry, Anna," Lady Mary concluded the slight awkward silence that had descended, "I promise that I won't keep you away from Bates for too long at all."

It was rather silly of her, this need to keep her husband so close, especially given that it had been months and not days or weeks since he had come home and back to her. Before then they were lucky to have so much as minutes to spend in the company of one another for a fortnight at a time, as well as a stony-faced guard keeping watch from a corner. Then again she didn't accept that it was too much to ask and she certainly would not apologise for the fact, not when it was the case that they never should have spent a moment apart in the first place. All those months that felt like tortured lifetimes, the both of them suffering when there had been no need for it.

Since they had moved into the cottage they had not been one night away from one another. Perhaps she was being rather naive in hoping that they could retain that record for as long as possible, if not for the rest of their lives. At the very least she wanted to see to it that the run would be unbroken for the exact amount of time that they had been separated, if not double that.

Twenty four hours had passed since Lady Mary announced her intentions, and her mood had not brightened in respect of it in the slightest. After the morning's dressing was done she came back to the servants' hall for a quick cup of tea, knowing that she had a full day of packing ahead of her. She slumped into her seat, the sigh that left her unbidden reverberating against the walls.

"Cheer up," a sour voice spoke from the opposite side of the table, looking up from the mending that was spread out before her, "it might never happen."

"I thought it already had," the passing figure of Thomas muttered, taking delight in doing so.

Miss O'Brien cast a momentary glance at the under-butler before making her excuses, gathering up the garment she was working on and departing. It was a very strange business; the pair that had once been as thick as thieves didn't seem to have so much as more than a few words to say to one another and apparently couldn't bear to be in the same room longer than was necessary. Trying to figure out the breakdown in communication was more effort than she wanted to waste on either of them; the one thing that she knew for certain was that it would be an easier time to have a sworn enemy than to be firm friends with either of them.

She lowered her head into her cup, leaning in to where John sat to the right of her, the rest of the hall's occupants fading from her periphery.

"I just don't see why she's going now," she sighed, keeping her voice low enough that it would only be caught by him. "She's so set on it, and I know now that she's only going to be miserable once she gets there."

"Lady Mary, quite contrary," he replied, smirking as he did so. The little glimmer in his eyes did lift her spirits, but also reminded her precisely why she was feeling so downcast. "I thought you liked London."

"I do. I'd rather have a little more notice about taking a trip there, instead of running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything ready in time."

She smiled sincerely towards him, though it still took a bit of effort. Her eyes as they looked into his own said everything she needed to say about the true reason why she did not wish to be part of the impromptu travelling party.

He returned her wistful look with understanding, giving her a reassuring smile that told her he reciprocated her feelings, even if he was more resigned to the situation than she was.

His hand rested softly upon her knee for a couple of moments, and even though it was well obscured from sight the gasp that hitched in her throat was nearly enough to give them away.

"It'll be an adventure," he said soothingly, his way of encouraging her not to miss him even though she would for every moment.

She did her best to smile, finding it easier to do so when he was in front of her.

"I trust that you're looking forward to going to the smoke, Mr Molesley?"

Molesley looked rather perplexed as he raised his head from the newspaper to reply to John's question but made the connection quickly afterwards.

"Oh yes, Mr Bates, very much so. I'm pleased when Mr Crawley invites me anywhere, but especially somewhere with as much going on as London."

His enthusiasm couldn't have been more at odds with the deflated feeling she was experiencing, and she suspected quite strongly that her husband knew precisely that.

"Would you believe, I've noticed just here that there's a very interesting exhibition about the history of machinery in one of the museums. Hopefully I'll manage to make it along." He looked hopefully, if somewhat cautiously, from John towards Anna. "I wonder if you might like to join me, Mrs Bates? Purely for your own interests, of course."

She could feel John's eyes upon her as he moved his book further upwards to hide the smirk burgeoning upon his face, already feeling herself fill with longing. She wanted to see the sights of London with her husband, otherwise she would do so alone.

"That would be very nice, Mr Molesley," she said, always intending to be polite, "if Lady Mary lets me get away, of course."


Her day had both passed quickly and been arduously tiring. The way Lady Mary was going about this trip it was as if she intended it to be a second honeymoon, the preparations more intense than they had been for France. Perhaps everything seemed so much more prolonged to her because there were distractions available now which she had only dreamt of and longed for back then, primarily the all-too tempting thought of John being but a few rooms away.

She had been pleased to have everything packed securely with a bit of time to spare before the servants had their dinner, until Lady Mary's bell rang earlier than was usual. She might have surmised before making the trip upstairs and the expression on her mistress's face – only a touch reproachful – said it all. In the space of a few hours she had changed her mind about two of the outfits that had been carefully pressed and folded into her luggage and wanted advice on replacements, as there were a few choices she couldn't settle on. Of course, a change in outfits would also require appropriate hats to match, and there were a pair of wine-coloured gloves that she was sure she hadn't got rid of but was unable to recall where she had last placed them. Anyway, they were absolutely essential and she simply couldn't leave Yorkshire without them in her possession.

It was gone ten o'clock when she had finished rearranging the clothes in their cases, wiping the perspiration from her brow. The search for the gloves would need to wait until the morning. Hopefully that would be the last of it but she was wise enough to anticipate yet more alterations in Lady Mary's whims.

She allowed herself to be annoyed for a few minutes longer and then changed her mindset, thinking better of it. There would be another day and two whole nights with her husband before she was called away and she was determined not to waste another moment being downcast and disgruntled. The weeks went by so swiftly – it wasn't all that long ago that they had been singing carols and rejoicing great tidings of comfort and joy – and she thought of this time next week, when London would be nothing other than a quickly-fading memory.

John was waiting patiently for her and she muttered her apologies as she skittered over the hard floor. His smile was loving and the skim of his hands soothing; she couldn't refrain from issuing a contented sigh as the broad palms swept between her shoulder-blades, smoothing her coat into place. It's bitter out there, he informed her, his reasoning for bundling a scarf around her, causing her to laugh as her face was nearly completely covered by the garment. Her eyes glimmered as he tapped her lightly on the nose, her genuine smile hidden from his view for the time being, and indeed until they found themselves back at home, the night being so pitch that they could only make out one another's outlines against the faint glimmer of moonlight, the sense of touch being the superior at such an hour.

She didn't like letting go of him merely so they could make it through the door, unlinking her arm from his reluctantly. Heaven help her when she would have to relinquish him for longer, twining the fingers of her hands together as she sat in the car that rolled gradually away from the house, the print of his palm against hers all she would have to sustain her.

The fire felt close to heavenly near her feet in their stockings, the bulk of John's frame squeezed in happily besides hers. The rickety settee was far too small for the both of them yet she didn't have the inclination to get rid of it, and neither would she allow him to reside in the armchair that was more suitable for his body, at least not for the time being.

"You've had that look on your face all night," she commented plainly, caught by the embers that were dancing within his eyes, far more enticing than those that swirled in the grate.

"What look?" he replied, only exaggerating the smirk that lay upon his lips.

She nudged him lightly with her elbow, shaking her head as she couldn't take her eyes away from him.

"I have some good news."

"That Lady Mary has changed her mind about going to London at all?"

His mouth quirked, the flame in his gaze quietly burning. "Rather that His Lordship will be taking a trip, too."

For a moment or two she was rather puzzled, failing to make the connection until John expanded.

"An impromptu meeting, it seems, but one which it appears that he cannot miss. He didn't say that much, only that he must be at Westminster for noon on Wednesday."

"This Wednesday?"

He nodded in reply to her question.

"And...he requires you to go with him?" She felt rather foolish, but needed to ascertain the matter to prevent herself from jumping to rash and hopeful conclusions.

"I imagine that it will be an overnight stay at most," he added, a tinge of regret in his tone.

One night was more than she had expected or even dreamt.

"Why didn't you tell me so sooner?" The smile grew yet wider upon her lips despite her question of rebuke, the feeling of delight so strong that it overtook her whole being, her legs restless and the blood rushing quick in her veins.

She reached out to touch him in order to steady herself, one hand resting at an angle upon the curve of his jaw and beneath his unbuttoned collar.

"As much as I'd have welcomed you dragging me into a closet, I thought it best to save the surprise until we were back under our own roof."

She tutted once, temporarily removing her other hand from where it lay upon the solidity of his chest, causing his eyes to flash in disappointment.

"It's very wicked to keep things from your wife, Mr Bates," she trilled, watching keenly as his gaze dipped from her own to the pout of her lips, the curve of her neck, "especially when she has been in such a state of agitation."

The intent nature of his stare upon her was wearing thin; she craved his touch upon her, felt herself beginning to waver.

"I apologise unreservedly, my love." His voice had lowered to a rasp which teased down the length of her spine, making her shiver at just the sound. He laid the tips of his fingers gently upon her waist, his eyes flicking to hers. "Whatever can I do to plead your forgiveness?"

A twinkle of a smile was born in the hue of her irises and the corner of her mouth simultaneously, and she seized hold of his hand as she got to her feet, feeling power and confidence surge within her as she looked down at him, such a switch in their heights being rare.

She swirled her fingers in the centre of his palm, quieting a giggle at the murmuring she could hear coming from his throat.

"I have one or two things in mind," she uttered, playing the role of coquette quite well, if she did think so herself. His dark eyes seared to the very soul of her. "But they require your presence upstairs."


The prediction of rain in London on a February day had not been an outlandish one, but what was more refreshing was Lady Mary's reaction to it. Instead of scowling as fat drops splashed down upon her umbrella and marked her shoes she wore a serene smile instead, sharing glances with Mr Crawley who stayed close by her side. Looking at the pair of them, inseparable as they walked matching step for step, it was hard to believe that they had taken so long in becoming husband and wife.

Anna and John were behind them in their own synchronised striding, refraining from holding hands or linking arms whilst in the company of their employers. Lord Grantham was at the head of their procession and Mr Molesley tailed the line, likely regretting the decision to carry a couple of Lady Mary's bags as well as Mr Crawley's and his own. The other valet had sat with Anna and John in the second class carriage on the train down, regaling them with conversation on a wide range of topics. Although she would have liked some time to herself with her husband Anna smiled along as Mr Molesley spoke animatedly, conversing well and taking him somewhat by surprise with her depth of knowledge on one or two of the subjects. She felt rather sorry and worried that he would feel quite out of it on this trip, even if the absent Miss O'Brien was far from being an amenable travelling companion.

Perhaps there was still time for John to cancel the reservation he had made. Then again Lady Painswick did have a couple of servants of her own, so it wasn't as though Mr Molesley would be completely alone.

They came to a sudden halt when Mr Crawley stopped in front of Lady Mary, smiling devotedly at her. Anna clutched onto John's arm for the briefest of moments, still expecting them all to topple over like dominoes for a second or two.

"I thought I might get some chocolate before we leave the station." A little confectionery stand on wheels stood outside, Mr Crawley's fair head tipping in its direction. "Would you like something, my darling?"

"Surprise me," was Lady Mary's characteristic response, though her tone was lighter, sounding as if she was carrying a smile whilst she spoke.

The bright look in Mr Crawley's eyes as he regarded her told that she was, indeed.

"Would anyone else care for anything?" he asked, more than perfunctory politeness in his question. "Anna?"

She dipped her chin to her chest, half in answer. "Thank you, Mr Crawley, but I'm quite well."

"Sweet enough as you are," John leant down to whisper in the shell of her ear, his hand brushing lightly at the small of her back. She could feel the heat of the blush upon her cheeks, and was grateful for the wider brim of her hat and the crowds that were milling around them on the pavement.

Mr Molesley coughed from behind her back, causing her shoulders to jump just a little.

"Um, I wouldn't mind some chocolate brazils, if that's alright with you, Sir? They're very hard to come by in Yorkshire."

"Of course, Molesley. What's say I get two bags; one for the journey home too."

He gave a small laugh of unconfined joy. "That's awfully kind of you, Sir. Treat yourself to one, on me!"

Anna turned her head to offer a smile to Mr Molesley, who was positively beaming at the prospect of as many chocolate brazils as he could wish for. Every sock has its shoe, her mother said, and she hoped that Mr Molesley would find his one day soon.

The party drove in two cars to Belgrave Square, Anna and John going along to ensure that Lady Mary and His Lordship would be suitably settled. It took less time to unload than it did to pack but there was the matter of changing out of the travelling clothes, which Lady Mary would almost certainly wish to do as soon as they got to their lodgings.

Lady Painswick was there to greet them on arrival, not seeming too put out by the extended party but not deigning to linger for too long before retreating back to the drawing room.

"Are you quite sure about the hotel, Bates?" Lord Grantham asked, his expression one of great concern as they stood gathered in the entry hall. "It's not as big as Grantham House here, granted, but we won't be like sardines. There's more than enough room for you both."

"We're sure, m'lord. We do appreciate you thinking of us."

Anna fought desperately to keep the smile from emerging onto her face at her husband's assurance. She recalled the fluttering she felt deep in her chest when he put forth the suggestion of staying at a hotel for the night they would both be in the city, feeling it rising up again. They had been awfully lucky in acquiring a room at such short notice.

It was a treat, and she didn't argue with him when he said that they deserved it.

His Lordship's brow remained knotted. "I'm rather uneasy about you paying to stay somewhere when there's a roof here for nothing..."

"Really, Papa," Lady Mary cut in, "single beds aren't suitable, and Anna and Bates are hardly newlyweds."

Anna diverted her gaze from the visibly flustered Lord Grantham, her cheeks glowing as she turned a thankful smile towards Lady Mary. It was nice to have her acknowledge that they had been married for nearly two years, when it seemed like less time than that to most people.

"It's only a ten minute walk," John added, "we can be here as late and as early as you need us, m'lord."

Lord Grantham waved a hand in the air. "No need to fret. We can rub by for a little while. In fact, I'll head up now so that I don't keep you any longer."

Anna suspected that His Lordship was keen to get away mainly so that he wouldn't feel like such a gooseberry caught between two couples, as Molesley had already ascended to dispose of the luggage. Lady Mary and Mr Crawley soon followed, sharing their own secret conversation.

Left alone for the first time since they had arrived at the Abbey early that morning, they smiled wide at each other. It was easy to forget sometimes that they weren't at home whenever it was just the two of them, and they lingered for a few moments, lost in one another's gaze.

A million different thoughts ran through her head; already she found herself eager to explore.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

She shivered as John's voice nestled in her ear, his breath a warm caress against her cheek.

"An hour at most. Lady Mary's already favourable, so it could be more like forty five minutes. If we're lucky."

She smiled at the hopeful look stoking in his eyes, her breath catching as he brushed his fingers over the hand hanging at her side.

"I'll let you get a head start," he uttered, tone laced with just as much anticipation as she was feeling, "and I'll meet you down here soon."


She had only ever stayed at an inn twice before, and neither had been in happy circumstances. Perhaps those past experiences coloured the present too favourably but there was no question that stopping over for the night in a hotel in London really was quite different. The window looked out onto a little patch of parkland mirrored on either side by elegant townhouses with flower-boxes lining their own balconies. Inside, it was modest and with just enough space to fit everything but it was beautifully decorated. A home from home, be it just the one room.

They made the most of being on their own time, taking tea in the rather bustling restaurant downstairs – on this occasion using their true married names in the table reservation. The rain held off along for them to stroll in Hyde Park and after a while spent there they jumped a bus up to Westminster. The bright red carriages were distinct from those they were better used to, riding to Ripon or Thirsk, and the passengers were packed in even tighter. It didn't matter a jot to her; she liked John being pressed to her while she alternated her glances out of the window to her side and then back to him and his perpetually smiling face.

If anyone they knew were to see Mr Bates at this very moment in time they may have been very curious and more than a touch perplexed at his gleeful expression.

"I asked His Lordship if he wouldn't mind being dressed for the evening a bit earlier tonight," he said when they were back in their room, adoring eyes regarding her as she sat in the chair at the dresser, rubbing the arch of one foot through her stockings.

Her gaze raised to ask him why but he had already answered her question, holding two tickets in his hand and chuckling when he noted the shift in her expression.

She had long held hopes of seeing a show on one of her many trips to London. Just the once would do her perfectly fine, to say that she had experienced it. It had to be more special than going to the pictures and watching a projection; seeing and smelling and hearing everything right as it happened in the moment, being part of the cheering crowd herself and smiling appreciatively at the performers as they gave their all.

"Oh, John," she exclaimed, taking one of the tickets as he readily offered it to her. "With everything else, this must have cost you..."

"I wanted to treat you," he cut in before she could fret for longer, running his fingers over the back of her hand which held the ticket as though it were a nugget of gold. "They're not the best seats in the house, but you've never said that you're put off by heights."

"No," she laughed, her eyes glimmering.

With a new and different preoccupation she glanced from the gaze of her husband down to the dress she was wearing, which was perfectly suitable for flitting around in the daytime but could not be classed in any way as fine evening wear and definitely too shabby for a night at the theatre.

"I've only brought one other dress with me, and I'm not sure there'll be enough time to change."

The time was nearing on quarter to six, meaning that they would need to be at Grantham House as the hour came and head into the West End straight afterwards if they wanted to be in their seats amply.

"What are you smiling at, Mr Bates?"

He chuckled again at her genuinely inquisitive tone.

"They don't expect us to be in our uniforms, so that saves us a little." He stepped in closer to her, meaning that there was hardly any air between their bodies, a hand brushing lightly against the collar of her dress and causing a shiver to careen down her spine.

She caught sight of the smirk pulling at his lips as his eyes lingered upon the slope of her neck.

"Besides, you look exquisite as it is."

She scoffed loudly, shaking her head. "Away with you, exquisite."

Breath stood in place of words, his palm rising to cup the curve of her face as it rose up to her cheek, glowing pink from the intentness of his gaze.

"I couldn't think of a more fitting word to describe you, Anna May Bates," he said after a while of staying reverently silent, his eyes carrying a soft and rich light as her face broke into an unrestrained grin. It was still rather surreal to hear her changed name spoken back to her, her greatest dream being confirmed as true.

The crinkles that framed both of his eyes embedded themselves deeper, showing the extent of the joy he revelled in too. She had the urge to reach up and trace them, but he circled her wrists before she could take the chance.

"I suppose we had better get there early," he reasoned, sounding quite serious, "else they'll mistake you for the star attraction of the night and whisk you away."

Stepping inside the theatre was like entering into another world for a couple of hours, one which held nothing other than delight and wonder. All worries she had about feeling out of place faded away once they were in their seats, surrounded by hundreds of other people who were very much like them, and once the curtain rose and the lights dimmed she forgot that anything else existed, held in captivation by the stage and its velvet backdrop.

The variety show meant that each performance was a wonderful surprise and the time simply flew by as one act followed another. There were magic tricks, comedy skits, troupes of dancers whom had her especially enthralled. Inbetween all of that there was music. Joyful tunes exalting all that there was to praise about life, raising the roof near off with the clapping and cheering that accompanied, followed by sorrowful laments which clasped hands to hearts and brought tears to thousands of eyes.

Her favourite song of the night was one which lay somewhere halfway between the two moods, a ditty that began softly and sung by a chanteuse with a voice like a nightingale. The romance of the melody could not be denied and Anna listened intently to the words while the spotlight shone upon the female performer, her silk dress shimmering against the light. Her voice rose, becoming steadily more powerful as the song built to its crescendo.

Darling, I wonder whether you know
How much I love you so
In the silence my longing heart calls
Through the light of the sun and as the deepest dark falls

A faint ache resided in her chest, the memory of such painful times thankfully passed by. Her hand moved across from where it had rested in her lap and lifted to curl around John's fingers, the exhilaration that came from being able to reach out and touch her husband holding such power over her.

She turned her head in the shadows, her eyes blinking back tears of pure happiness as he encased her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Even in the dimness there was no mistaking the smile that stretched upon his face.

When you hear its cry it will tell all you need to know
That, my darling, I love you, love you so

They made the decision between them to walk back, taking a detour to stroll beside the riverbank, the flow of people steady even given the night hour. The air didn't seem as cold as a few hours previously, somewhat peculiarly, so they stood for a while looking out upon the Thames and the boats that bobbed along. Their hands had remained clasped since leaving the theatre, and Anna was unspeakably happy at the simple but incredibly meaningful act of holding hands with her husband in public. It was something she hadn't done nearly enough of, even if she used every chance that came her way in order to make up for lost time.

It was only now that the length of the day had caught up with her; they'd been up earlier than usual and had packed so much into their time together. Her eyes blinked heavily up towards the misty sky, stars disguised behind the clouds, as her head rested against his arm.

"I remember looking out on the Seine," she uttered softly, her fingers pressing tightly in the spaces between his. "It was the day time, of course. A couple passed me by, they must have noticed how I was staring out and standing in the same spot for too long. The man said "it's beautiful, isn't it?" and I said "yes," but I wasn't really paying attention. I didn't want to seem impolite."

She lifted her head up to find John smiling down at her, a funny mixture of utter joy and faded sorrow dancing round within her soul.

"It was beautiful, but it was my own fault...I was so stubborn, I wanted to be blind."

An unhappy sigh left her, travelled into the mist of the night.

With a gentle hand upon her back John lifted her spirits.

"I'd like to go back one day and enjoy it properly, just so I hadn't wasted my one chance of being there, amongst everything."

He had told her to go and make memories for the both of them, but doing anything worth remembering without him – anything that wasn't benefitting his case whilst he languished – was an unendurable feat.

Thankfully he brushed away her confession that life had not been as rosy as she had once made out, turning her to him with both hands upon her arms.

"We should run away, Mrs Bates," he said, the smirk lighting his features. "Anywhere you want to go, anything you want I shall do my very best to give it to you. The moon on a stick, if that be your wish."

She cast a glance towards the moon, full and shining in the sky above, and laughed, feeling so much more carefree.

"I think I can do perfectly well with just looking at it." She smiled at him, lifting her arms up and under so they crept beneath his coat. His eyebrows lifted in slight surprise at her action, causing another little giggle to escape from her mouth before she curved her frame in closer towards him. "I don't want for anything more than to be here."

He smiled down at her, drawing her nearer to the warmth of his frame. "For now, that is."

"For always," she returned with sincerity in her tone as well as on the expression that she wore with great pride.

She had no need to wish upon a cloaked star as he read her mind completely, tipping her chin upwards and bringing her mouth to his for a tender kiss.

The night provided a wonderful cover but it also reminded them of the fact that time was drawing on. They broke apart with soft smiles, reading one another's wishes word for word.


Even though she had changed clothes twice that very day it was a relief to be in her nightgown, feeling at ease. Similarly she had loosened her hair into a braid but given that she had washed there was little point in leaving it like that much longer.

She felt John's eyes keen upon her as she separated the strands, smiling openly at the devout attention he paid to her. Images of their wedding night came rushing back to her, the first time she had revealed herself in such a way. The heavenly manner in which his fingers combed through her hair, a telling precursor to all the other ways he would worship her throughout the blissful hours.

He placed the book he had lost interest in upon the nightstand, throwing back the bedcovers to allow her to climb in. The bed was a little bigger than the one at the cottage though the room made a strange illusion of its size.

"You smell nice," he uttered at her back.

"Getting rid of the smells of the city," she answered with a smile upon her face. "Lady Mary insisted that I lend some of her hand cream. And she said that I needn't have bothered coming back to Belgrave Square, as she can do quite well with Mr Crawley last thing at night."

John chuckled, his breath falling between her shoulder blades. "It's a shame the same thing can't be said for His Lordship. Although there are much harder jobs to be had."

She huffed her agreement, bringing the covers over both of them and lying upon her side.

"What time is your train tomorrow?"

"Let's not talk about that," he answered, an arm circling about her waist, fingertips lightly kneading against her.

"I'm just being practical," she reasoned, "Lady Mary doesn't need me at the house until eight o'clock."

"I'll go up at the same time. The train departs at ten, and His Lordship doesn't need much attention. Breakfast will be his main concern."

She leant against the pillow, her hand covering his where it rested just above her hip.

"She gave me express instruction to ring for a cab after dressing, to go to Harley Street."

"Hmmm," John pondered. "Will Mr Crawley be joining her?"

"Not that I'm aware. If there was something wrong then I'm sure he would...or perhaps not. You know what she's like; she takes after her grandmother in that respect, thinking she can deal with anything by pinning on a brave face."

She felt his grip tighten upon her, his hand running soothing circles over the fabric of her gown.

"I'm sure it's nothing bad. In all the years I've known her I've never seen her in such lively spirits. Though I will admit, you know her ways much better than I do."

"She's been like that ever since they wed. Save for that awful time..."

Though over half a year had passed since it was still difficult to think of the Crawley girls being a pair and not a trio, as they always should have been.

"Poor Mr Branson. I don't think there's a moment that goes by that my heart doesn't ache for him."

John gave agreement in silent supplication, drawing himself closer so that his chin rested upon her shoulder.

"At least he knew true love." He couldn't see the wistful smile upon her face as she thought of something she had once told Mrs Hughes. One of the lucky ones. "And he has a gift in young Miss Sybbie."

She smiled to think of the precious baby, a blessing to the whole household since Lady Sybil's passing.

"That leaves Lady Edith," she said, shifting onto her back, feeling slightly restless at the turn in conversation. "I don't think she's recovered from being left at the altar. And to be quite honest, I don't think Sir Strallan did the right thing."

"His Lordship would disagree with you."

"What does honour matter if you love someone?" She felt John's eyes upon her, daring to argue only for her sake, which she was still grateful for. "I suppose that it must have been stronger on her side, else I don't see why he should have run away if he felt just the same. So perhaps he did end up saving her the greater heartache."

As she mused, staring up at the ceiling, John raised onto his elbow, caressing the inside of her arm with the backs of his fingers.

"She'll find her happiness in the end."

A wide smile broke upon her face at the confidence in his tone. "You sound very certain."

"I speak from experience," he exclaimed, mirroring her beaming expression measure for measure. "If any man should have been deserted by happiness and true love in his life then, by all rights, that man would have been me. And yet I was blessed in abundance. So it stands to reason that every other being should find the same joy as I have."

The swirling feeling that so often resided in her stomach sparked to life once more. She lifted her arm towards him and he pulled her momentarily from her place upon the pillow, their mouths melding and caressing, allowing themselves to be much bolder now that they were in private.

She sighed in satisfaction, snuggling against his side, staring into the depths of his eyes as they lay next to each other as husband and wife should, every night of their lives.

"I am very glad that we don't have to sleep in separate beds."

A rasp of breath came from his throat as his eyes took on a darker shade. "So am I, my love. I lived for the very dream of lying with you like this every night we were apart."

Her breath caught as she thought of those agonising months, her hand reaching out to touch him to prove to herself that this wasn't all an illusion.

"John..."

He hushed her before she could continue, taking the hand that pressed against him and raising it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss against her skin.

"Throughout all that, I had your letters."

A delicious smirk curved his lips into a wondrous shape, and she felt the heat coursing up her body, making her blush furiously as she knew exactly what type of letters he was referring to. She had only wrote one or two, and they had been instigated by ones which he had sent her. She recalled shivering in a foreign bed, the sheets of paper at her side as she descended from a euphoric high.

"They kept me quite warm on cold nights, I have to say. But nothing compares to being with you." He lowered his head, laying his lips upon her neck – the collar of her nightgown exposing more of her skin to him. She gasped in delight as his mouth trailed over her, his body shifting to cover her. "Through all the days, I still wish for the nights the most."

She opened her eyes to find him smiling into her face, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek.

"So do I."

And the night that was to pass would be as wonderful as the day that had preceded it.

A time that she would always cherish.


A/N: The song from the variety show is one I completely fabricated (unless by some very strange coincidence it is an actual song).

Towards the end I also referenced a recent fic called The Garter by Banna-nannas in terms of the letters that Anna and John exchanged whilst he was in prison. If you haven't read it already then you definitely should.