A/N: Wow, I'm so thrilled with the reaction to this story. You are all too kind :) Hopefully you'll find things just as intriguing from here on in (and I'm also glad that there might be some speculation over what happened with John already. I bet your theories are better than what I have in mind)...

Disclaimer still stands. Let's kick this reunion off properly.

She hadn't expected such a small trip to turn into a hard fought battle. Even though it was within her own free time, the producers were not keen to say the least on Anna attending the school reunion back at home. They did get paranoid fairly easily and were concerned about all manner of things taking place, all of which Anna could safely contend would not occur. After weeks of negotiation and lots of assurances – including some intervention from a couple of the elder members of the cast who could speak from experience – she was finally granted the permission to go, with some conditions attached.

Anna was still cringing from the memory of watching the car they had sent to escort her pull up outside the door. A dark 4x4 with blacked out windows was not the most inconspicuous of vehicles, and it would stick out like a sore thumb in Downton. She could only imagine what people would think of her, as surely they would know it was her inside without being able to tell properly, and she flushed uncomfortably at the notion anyone would willingly believe that she was trying to draw attention to herself. Even more embarrassingly, they had insisted on her being accompanied by a chauffeur. It was a small mercy it had been agreed upon that she could choose the person for the job, instead of making the journey any more awkward than was necessary by needing to make small talk with a hired individual whom she had nothing in common with.

"I still can't believe Gwen came down with tonsillitis," she sighed in the echoing silence of the car, with its plush padded interior and extra safety locks. "I honestly think that she knows just when to pick her moments sometimes."

For all her prior excitement, Anna felt strangely and acutely different now. It wasn't nerves, and she knew that the peculiar feeling whatever it was wouldn't last very long, but still she was a little unnerved by it. Since Gwen had made the very croaky phone call she had had some doubts, and the passing urge to seize the wheel and turn the car back around herself was briefly tempting.

"Ahh, come on, you're Anna Smith. You can handle yourself."

The Irish brogue was accompanied with a cheeky twinkle, and Anna frowned for a minute before breaking into a smile herself. Perhaps not many would give the name of Tom Branson in reply to who they considered to be the most reliable, but Anna knew differently. They had become friends upon meeting at drama school, and kept in touch even though Tom's stint there had been short. About three months after the start of the course he had decided that becoming an actor wasn't the right path for him after all, and instead transferred to UCL to major in journalism. If they were aware of Tom's profession the show's producers surely would have warned her off the friendship. Not only did Anna have more credit and belief in those around her than that, but tabloid gossip was hardly Tom's route. He'd done some placements that he wasn't particularly proud of but they'd served him well in his progression, and he was currently interning in politics and current affairs at The Guardian. As with all of her friends she was proud of what he had achieved so far, and with that ambition came a great deal of amiability and humour. The smirk on his face turned rapidly serious and Anna worried for a moment, knowing Tom's usual demeanour.

"Of course, I'm more than happy to step in if you think you might need it. I'm not quite bodyguard standard, but I did grow up in Dublin so that's enough qualification."

"Don't be daft," Anna chided through laughter. If even Tom was making something out of it, there really was no hope. Luckily his suggestion seemed to have been in jest. "I can tell you now nothing like that will happen. It's such a small town, nobody will warrant it or even really be bothered. To be honest, I don't even know how many people will show up."

She felt rather shamed that she wasn't as in touch with these matters as she should have been, but she did know that Downton wasn't a place for fuss. Indeed there wasn't really much call for reunions, given that most people knew and saw each other regularly in the village. Self-consciousness struck Anna again as she considered. She'd certainly kept in touch as much as her schedule allowed and she hadn't been completely absent from home in the last few years, though she hadn't got back as much as she hoped. The friends that she knew and trusted best were nothing but supportive of the path her life had taken and surely most others would follow the same on encountering her again. But in close quarters, people were prone to listening to misinterpreted whispers and things that simply weren't true. Jealousy may rear its head; she wasn't naïve enough to doubt that. Perhaps she was becoming conditioned to the hardness of London, but she liked to believe that she still had enough faith to know that Downton was different. On the whole, anyway.

"It'll be fine," she said aloud, geeing herself up. She saw that Tom was smiling in the driver's seat, offering her encouragement. "It'll be a laugh, if nothing else, stepping back into the past for a few hours."

"You'll have a grand time, catching up."

Tom backed up her assertions, and she knew that he was right. She felt a bit sorry that he'd be at a loose end for the evening and was certain that he would fit in more than easily if he was to go inside with her, but she didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression. For what reason, she couldn't quite work out.

He read her thoughts as he shifted, hands fiddling with the engine key a little impatiently.

"You know the haunts. Where's good for a young, innocent Irish lad to take in the hospitality for a few hours?"

Anna stifled a burst of laughter at Tom's description of himself. "There's The Grantham Arms just on the outskirts of the village. And not much else, I'm afraid. We might have electricity and running water, but we're not quite level with London for hotspots just yet. If it wasn't for me dragging you down, you could have gone into Leeds for the night."

"No worries," he shrugged at Anna's slightly guilty expression. "It'll be nice to take it easy for a bit. The Grantham Arms it is, then." By all accounts, he was rather enthusiastic at the prospect of visiting the little pub.

"And soft drinks only," Anna issued the gentle reminder as she unclipped her seatbelt, remembering too keenly the glares she had been fixed with before she had headed back.

"Anna, I'm not that much of a rebel," Tom countered, and she felt ridiculous for even having to mention it. "Not a drop of alcohol will pass my lips, I swear. I'm in charge of precious cargo."

She raised an eyebrow at him through the open window. "I don't know if I like being referred to as something so unwieldy. Is it this dress?"

Tom roared at her joke, shaking his head as he planted his hands on the wheel.

"You look great. Now off with you, before I turn into a pumpkin."

Anna smiled, waving to the car as it drove away. She took a few moments to fully realise where she was before she turned on her heels against the stony ground, worried for a few seconds that she was going to trip over her feet. She didn't know what she had expected to find, holding some far-fetched ideas of a door to the past appearing magically before her for a silly moment or two. Apart from a few renovations bringing it firmly into the latest century, it was completely recognisable.

Through time and tribulations, Downton Comprehensive stood the same as it always did.

Standing before the building, staring up to its height, John had never wished so hard to be anywhere else on earth. He was grateful that he'd ditched the tie before he left the house as he was sure he felt suffocated enough without it, and at least he was in dark colours so it wasn't apparent how much he was sweating. Who ever would have thought that returning to a former place of work would have such a paralysing effect on him, but all too quickly he was reminded of how everything had ended there, and the waves of fear were not only completely plausible but rose up to crash around him.

He was his own man with a perfectly free will; he didn't need to suffer like this. In fact at his age he was surely far past the point of caring so much. He should have refused outright, listened to his own instincts instead of letting Robert push and convince him into somehow thinking that this was a good idea rather than the disaster he was sure it would turn out to be. His friend had been persistent, hadn't known when to stop when it came to persuading and changing his tactics when one avenue after the other had become exhausted. In the end it had been the hardest way that won out.

"What are you so bloody afraid of? You said it yourself, the past is the past. You can't change it, but you can't run from it either. There's no point. And running is the only thing you've been doing since it happened. I'd say it's high time you stopped, turned around and faced it, head on. And if you don't take the chance now, then you'll let it grind you down. You'll never really move on, end up stuck forever."

If he wasn't his best mate, John would have had no problem with smacking him in the face. There was no denying that Robert's words had hurt, hitting a nerve that he knew too well was exposed. He kept himself to himself for a few days, retreating back to the cottage to spend the nights sulking. In the end he could take no more of Robert's smug face greeting him each morning, and he relinquished. He supposed that was just part of it, if he was being honest. The truth was the toughest thing to bear, especially when it was shown in the clearest of daylight. Robert had been right – this chance wasn't likely to come along again for a good while, and though he was sure he was content with his life just how it was, he had been stuck in a rut over this. A few hours wasn't likely to solve the humongous mess he had made, and rather shamefully John was grateful for that, not sure he could face up to it all completely. Yet it was a step in the right direction. Or perhaps more accurately, a well-intentioned shove.

Now or never, Bates, he said to himself as he ploughed on without trying to think too much.

Swinging the door open he was surprised to find that the hall was rather empty, though he had purposely arrived later. Pockets of people stood sectioned off into corners, holding plastic cups of light liquid in their hands and absorbed in their conversations, not bothering to look towards any new arrivals. There were a couple of faces that seemed sort of familiar, though they had different hairstyles and outfits and he couldn't be precisely sure, but as was expected most of the figures were unrecognisable. A 'Class of 2001' banner hung rather sadly over the stage, one side looking as though it would slump down at any second. Other than that modest piece of decoration there was nothing else to signal the occasion, and John found it vaguely amusing. No doubt Charlie Carson was still in charge, the whole atmosphere rang of his sense of style. Nothing extravagant in any way, indeed it hardly looked any different from a standard school assembly. He couldn't have imagined that the reunion was Carson's idea, and found a smile inching upon his face when across the room he sought out the sight of one Elsie Hughes talking to Beryl Patmore, the home economics stalwart. With the presence of the two women still remaining at the school he felt certain that not everything had fallen into disrepair. Then again not everyone was like him, and he definitely wouldn't have done such a terrible disservice to those two ladies to put them into the same category.

Pouring himself a cup of lemonade while nobody observed, John found a suitable spot to stick to. He winced swigging the drink that had been dispersed of bubbles, sitting left untouched for too long. In the shadows he was able to look on from a safe distance, and felt more at ease as he believed he could very well get away with not being noticed the whole night long, though afterwards Robert would reproach him and say that wasn't exactly the point. Everyone was too occupied, either with the music that was gradually getting louder or their own happy chattering. John tapped his foot along to the former and was glad that he didn't have to pretend with the latter.

"Well, if it isn't John Bates! As I live and breathe."

He'd just had time to digest the gleeful shout as the familiar face came bounding across the floor towards him. A little less hair than years ago and wearing a smarter suit, but otherwise unmistakable in his enthusiasm. He seemed especially pleased to see John and he was taken aback by it, not knowing what to say in response for a few seconds.

"Joseph," he finally managed to say the man's name, putting on a smile as his former colleague shook him firmly by the hand. "Good to see you."

"The same goes for you, though I must say I'm a little surprised." Joseph Molesley apparently couldn't disguise his astonishment. "We all thought you'd fallen from the face of the earth! How long has it been, it must be at least ten years."

"Yeah, something like that," John laughed half-heartedly, swilling the remnants around the plastic cup and yearning for its contents to be replaced with something stronger. "Things just got away from me. You know how life is."

He knew from time gone by that Joe was an inquisitive fellow, though he never meant any harm by his queries. Indeed, you weren't likely to come across anyone as harmless as Joseph Molesley. John just wished he wouldn't be too much in the mood to wonder tonight, though he doubted it very much and braced himself as Joe continued to gaze at him with wide eyes.

"I did wonder whether I was seeing things, I mean my eyesight isn't what it used to be but I don't think it's quite that bad yet," Joseph chortled a bit too loudly, causing a few people to look over. "I said to Phyllis, 'you know, I'm sure that's John Bates over there. I'd bet my boots on it.' I wasn't willing to bet much more seeing as you've been so elusive, but I knew I wasn't being deceived. I just had to come and take a closer look. Well, this is just wonderful."

The grin on the other man's face was sincere, and John found himself somewhat moved. He didn't expect anyone to react to his presence in such a way, though Joseph had probably been his closest acquaintance there back in the day.

"I just saw it advertised and thought I'd pop my head in for a bit," John explained, being as casual as he possibly could. "Couldn't see that anything bad could come from it."

"Well, if this is what it takes for you to come out of the woodwork, then I'll have to push for them to happen more often!" Joseph nudged his elbow against John's arm, nearly causing him to spill the rest of his drink down his shirt. Relaxing a little in the man's company, he allowed himself to chuckle along and nod. "Sorry that this question sounds terribly dull, but best to start with the basics. How are you these days?"

"Not too bad. Better than that," John answered, not feeling that he was being too untruthful. "Trucking along fine. Yourself?"

"Oh, can't complain at all. Life's been kind to me." John reined in his jealousy as he heard that, knowing that he had no right to feel that way. If anyone deserved luck in life then it was Joe. "Still going here, so coming up on nineteen years now. And the biggest and best thing…" He smiled widely as he brought his hand up, flashing the gold band on his finger.

"Congratulations," John said sincerely. "Who's the lucky woman?"

Joseph gazed down at his shoes for a moment, flustered as he looked away. "Well I'm far luckier than her that she ever agreed. But it's Phyllis."

At that point, both looked across the room to see the woman in question, dark hair in a neat bun. John smiled to himself thinking how Joe had long been smitten with the unassuming technology teacher. She was clearly just as much taken with the geography tutor but neither was bold enough to make the first move. He would have lost money if he ever had a wager on the fact that they would end up married.

"That's fabulous. I couldn't be happier for the both of you."

The burnish of red lifted from Joseph's face but he still looked immensely proud. "And how are things with Vera?"

He couldn't help it, his stomach still sunk to his feet on hearing her name. "I couldn't tell you, I'm afraid. We divorced a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." John saw that Joseph looked regretful for being the one to rake it up with the mention of his own status, but he held no malice.

"Don't be," he assured his old friend. "It was a long time coming, and for the best." He pre-empted Joe's next question by giving the answer before he could speak. "There hasn't been anyone else since. But it's just as well that I don't mind my own company."

He smiled and it seemed enough to divert the topic, as Joseph began chatting about other things, including all the developments that had taken place at the school in the last couple of years, which hadn't been limited to the change of name. John kept one ear on the conversation, nodding along as he stole the occasional glance out to the rest of the hall. He was glad that Joe hadn't strayed too far and that nobody had come to join them. There was a face that he hadn't seen of yet, though he hadn't looked too hard, and the thought that at any moment he would get a tap on the shoulder – if not much more than that – plagued him.

Gradually he began to lose focus, and decided to ask outright to put his mind at rest.

"You don't know if Jack is here, do you?" He knew that there was a ring of desperation apparent in his voice, but little could be done to hide it.

Joseph looked at him, understanding held in his gaze along with a promise not to go into the matter.

"He isn't. At least I certainly haven't seen him." It wasn't a guarantee, but it was enough for John. "Henry's here though. Hopefully we can get him alone later on, without her."

John didn't have to enquire further to know who 'her' was; once he saw Henry Lang, the other man who made up their three-man troupe, he wasn't too shocked to see the sour face of Sarah O'Brien standing next to him. For a moment he thought he noticed her glancing towards him, utterly repulsed. It's not that he expected Henry to take sides – it wasn't as if they were the children after all – but at the same time he must have known about her allegiances, and they certainly weren't favourable towards John and definitely not after what had taken place. For a few years he'd held onto the belief that she played more than a part from the sidelines, always strangely dissatisfied with him being at the school. They could hope that Henry might break away for a bit, but John thought better of approaching them. Love could be blind, after all.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief when the kind and smiling face approached him, her smile even wider than Joseph's had been. She touched her hand to John's arm, as if to discern that he wouldn't vanish into thin air.

"Mr Bates," Elsie beamed, looking like a blushing schoolgirl herself, "you are a sight for sore eyes."

"Mrs Hughes. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather see."

And it was the truth. From the very first moment he'd set foot in the school to the day he'd had to depart, Elsie Hughes had been a rock. Even when all others had, in one way or another, she never once judged him and always had a kind word to offer. Maybe it was some kind of connection between Celts. For the first time that night John felt himself smile naturally, tickled by the look of disbelief on her face.

"Oh, hark at us, using that Mrs and Mr nonsense," she screwed up her face, giving a toss of her head. "Let's put a stop to that at once."

John found himself enveloped in a tight hug; for someone rather petite Elsie had the ability to be overpowering. He didn't mind, feeling himself having to hold back the tears by being welcomed so openly.

"I did say, Mrs Hughes, that it was wonderful to see him." Joseph piped up from behind her, shuffling his feet rather awkwardly.

"And I'll second that," Elsie replied heartily as she pulled back, unable to stop shaking her head at the sight of John.

"I know it's been far too long," John said once he had placed a friendly peck on the English teacher's cheek, regret heaviest in his voice for thinking he had let her down by not showing his face before now.

Her hand issued another pat to his arm, already telling him it was of no bother. "Whatever the reason, which I've no need to ask, I know it was the right one for you."

A burden of a weight was lifted from John's shoulders, and he nodded his thanks to the woman before they struck up a natural conversation. He started to vastly regret the time he had spent wallowing in his own self-pity and hiding away, due to his own volition. Robert's words resonated with him even more now. He hadn't just been afraid; he had been a petrified coward, and though reasons remained, whether they were completely rightful were questionable to him now. Certainly, the longer he spent talking to the friends that he had never forgotten but regretfully had distanced himself from he could only blame himself for being held prisoner so long.

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a sight that very nearly stopped his heart.

For the third year running, John had been given the latest intake of sixth form students on his schedule of classes, a fact that he was pleased about. Though he enjoyed all the classes he took, in his experience it was the youngest and eldest students who usually provided the best, being the most enthusiastic and willing to push themselves. With the older ones it was also the case that they had specifically chosen to study drama for their A Levels, so he knew that mostly meant they weren't going to muck about and would instead be dedicated to their studies. Of course he always appreciated seeing a spark in each one, but he had little patience for time wasters, with a temper that he knew he had to keep in check. Hopefully there would be no need to worry about that and this lot would all be exemplary, he thought to himself as he scanned the names in the register. Well, there was a first time for everything.

You could never completely tell until a few classes into the term, but John had the feeling he really had struck lucky this time. The students showed real promise, getting their heads down to work and already doing a great job in the practical sessions. There was lots to be excited about indeed, and he felt a renewed passion for the craft that had been lacking in him somewhat in recent months.

There was a few amongst them who stood out, and one in particular caught his eye from the get go. In the first couple of lessons she had sat in the middle of the classroom, golden hair shining like a beacon and always tied back into a bun. Gradually she moved forward seats until he'd see her sitting reliably at the front, sometimes there even before he had got into the room, intently looking at the pages of her notebook at what he imagined were the previous lesson's notes. He hadn't expected her to glance up while he was admiring her diligence, and his breath caught unexpectedly when he noticed just how blue her eyes were. She offered him a slightly shy but wide smile and he shook himself from the sudden and strange reverie that had descended as he walked up to his desk, not knowing what had come over him.

Given their age, he encouraged the students to call him by his first name. It was a common practice with most sixth form classes to get them out of the habit before leaving school, and although Mr Carson didn't approve, John felt that it was better to build that relationship with his students when they were old enough to deal with it.

Whenever he called her name from the register, she always responded by calling him 'Mr Bates'.

He found it endearing, but was still rather puzzled by it. At the end of one lesson close to the end of the first term he caught her as she was collecting her things, one of the last to go as usual.

"Anna, you do know that you can call me John? I won't be offended by it."

She gave a particularly dazzling smile in reply, and John believed that he had forgotten his own name for a few moments.

"I know, Mr Bates. I just think for what teachers do, you deserve the proper respect." Her lips only seemed to curve more, the light filling her face. "And you most of all," she added quietly before she scurried out, books laden in her arms.

John couldn't stop the smile from taking over his own features.

Seeing the two figures who meant so much to her talking to one another filled Anna with joy and made her even more eager to make her way across the room. She had an idea that Mrs Hughes would be there; indeed, it was impossible to imagine that the school would ever run without her. Her English teacher from Year 9 onwards, the woman was responsible for instilling a love of the subject in her, as well as so much more besides. Alongside her own mother and grandmother Anna could truly say that Mrs Hughes was the other most important female role model in her life, shaping her values and giving her guidance through the sometimes turbulent teenage years. Even just watching her chat animatedly from a distance gave Anna such great comfort.

And then there was Mr Bates. Anna felt her heart fluttering furiously in her chest simply from stealing a single glance at him, and she straightened the skirt of her dress, tucking a wavy strand of hair behind her ear. Though it had been years she noticed that time had been kind to him; he looked more handsome than ever in his dark suit with an open collar on his shirt, a lock of hair dangling insistently over his forehead even after he had raked his hand through there. When it came to him she had always felt the strangest mixture of emotions and they all came rushing back to her now, powerful in the extent that they had never been forgotten even if they had occasionally been put to one side, for the sake of preserving her sanity.

As if on cue, Mrs Hughes turned towards her as she approached, the smile irremovable from her features.

"Anna, my girl. How lovely to see you – again."

The older woman pulled the younger into an embrace, but John suspected that they had already met up with one another that evening. Blue eyes caught his gaze over Elsie's shoulder and he felt his face begin to burn, a little embarrassingly.

"It's always lovely to see you, Mrs Hughes."

Elsie beamed at the compliment, squeezing Anna's hand in hers. John knew what was to come next and found he couldn't speak as her eyes were still fixed upon him. Elsie smiled fondly while her gaze flitted between the two.

"I wondered when you might come over," the soft Scottish note of her voice intoned, helping to break the ice that had only temporarily frozen over.

"I thought it was you," Anna uttered almost absent-mindedly, out of sheer wonder.

Even in the relative dimness of the room, her eyes were sparkling bright. Everything about her sparkled, John thought and recalled from long ago.

"Hello," he replied softly, near silently.

"I'll leave you both to catch up," Mrs Hughes chimed in before she walked away, gathering empty cups that had been left on the sidelines and taking with her Joseph, who had been lingering with something of a starstruck expression on his face. As they went further into the hall, a snatch of conversation could be followed. "Yes, I'm sure that you can ask for an autograph later, Mr Molesley."

"Blimey, I just can't believe it…"

Anna let out a giggle and amongst the pop music soundtrack that was flooding through the speakers from the stage John was certain that he'd never heard a sweeter sound. At once he felt full of shame for allowing such a thought to enter his head, but then he remembered that they had both moved along from where they once were.

She composed herself, coughing lightly before she looked him full in the face.

"I never said it properly," she said, her nature as polite as ever. "Hello, Mr Bates."

There was something about the way she said his name formally in that Yorkshire lilt that he had never picked up in all the time he had lived here that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and also made him smile effortlessly.

A flurry of butterflies invaded Anna's stomach on seeing the smile cross his face, the way that crinkles had set around his eyes signalling that it was genuine. She was really rather proud of herself that she'd achieved such a feat in such a short space of time.

There were a few moments of silence that stretched on between them, and Anna shook her head, sending ringlets of her hair bouncing.

"I'm sorry if I seem funny," she countered. "I suppose I just didn't expect to see you here."

John couldn't stop the hearty chortle from escaping him, moving his hand to cover his mouth as he noticed that Anna looked a little perplexed.

"It would seem that that's a popular opinion this evening," he answered her questioning expression with a smile, "so I can assure you you're not alone."

That seemed to settle her, the radiant smile settling upon her face once more. He found himself captivated by some force that he didn't think he would encounter, unable to take his eyes off her. She really did look incredible in that simple white dress.

"I could say the same for you," he said quickly, finding a bit of confidence. "They must have been pleased, having a star attraction turn up."

When he actually heard the words leave his mouth he wanted to snatch them right back, not wanting to reduce her to a name. This was why he shouldn't be let out of the house; what the hell must she think of him? Luckily it seemed to have washed over Anna, as she only stayed smiling at him, fingertips dancing upon her plastic cup. Just her presence made him calmer, she seemed so unfazed by everything when most other people would be totally unnerved by the amount of eyes staring at them. After a little while though he noticed her starting to shift, growing a bit restless as she'd graciously stopped their conversation a couple of times to have her photo taken with a few excited teachers.

John shivered as she leant up on her tiptoes towards him, warm breath breezing against his cheek.

"Do you mind if we step outside for a little bit? It might be easier to talk there."

"Of course I don't mind," he said instantly, met with a smile from her before her hand brushed briefly against his arm.

"I'll lead the way," she exclaimed. "I think I still remember my way around, it doesn't seem to have changed that much."

A part of him hoped that wasn't true.

John felt better for having the cool air on his face, the evening growing darker as they stepped outside. Looking round to take in the place where he had followed behind Anna as she walked steadily, he saw that they were in the yard that led out from the back of the building, not too far away from what had been the drama hall. Peeking through the windows briefly he could make out some canvases, it looked as though it was an art studio now. He felt a strange pang of loss as he considered how his patch had been taken over, and the past firmly erased.

Yet the memories that were held in this place seemed as strong as ever. He recalled that one night in particular; the feeling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff and was so close to losing his balance, the frustration that had composed his entire being, the ache that lodged in his chest as he watched her walk away, that look on her face that he wished he could make disappear.

She was smiling now, glancing curiously around herself, eyes alight as she seemed to be thinking about something - even the years gone by, perhaps. Her movements were fluid even when they were only small and she held herself with a grace that went beyond her years. If he hadn't known otherwise John would have sworn she had come from a different time, hearkening back to the glory age of silver screens. It was a fickle and often ruthless profession, but of them all he had always hoped and prayed against his non-existent faith that she would prosper. And now she had, but she appeared no different to the girl he had known years ago. Not in her mannerisms and certainly not in her words, which had been so gentle in the time they had been speaking.

"So," she ventured softly in the first direct question she had asked him in the entire evening, "how are you finding it, tonight?"

"Erm, interesting?" He began to chuckle as she laughed melodiously. "I don't know, really. It feels a bit weird, if I'm being honest. But not necessarily all in a bad way."

Anna nodded along, seeming to find some understanding in what he was saying.

"It is good to see a few friendly faces, though." And one in particular, his thoughts barely disguised as he flashed a smile towards her.

"I quite agree," she beamed back, matching and rivalling his expression in her exuberance. He wasn't really sure what it was, but there was something about her that made her enthusiasm infectious. She clearly wanted to be here out of her own will, and not because of some publicity exercise. It was quite obvious that she didn't need it, anyway.

"I'm sorry about before," he ran a hand through his hair as he was prone to do when he felt a bit awkward over something, "about saying you were some kind of display piece. Of course I didn't mean it that way at all."

She found the faint blush in his cheeks very endearing, along with the way he had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Though she certainly had no complaints about his appearance, the stance he had took on made him look years younger.

"It's okay," she assured quickly, and started to giggle lightly. "In fact, maybe I should have put myself up for it, then perhaps a few more people would have turned up."

John laughed along too, feeling freer than he had done for years, never mind just tonight.

"You must find it strange, people you've known most of your life asking you for pictures and the like."

Anna lifted her gaze, sighing. "I suppose it is rather surreal. I mean, it's one thing when you're out on the street in London, and I don't think I'll ever be used to that anyway." She hugged her arms around herself, a gesture designed to comfort. "But when you come back home…I don't mind it, of course I don't. I only think what it would be like if it was the other way round, I wouldn't want to leave anybody disappointed. The worst thing is when people you know avoid you because of it."

There was a slight and sudden sadness marking her beautiful blue eyes, and John felt angry for seeing it.

"I'm being silly, but I don't know. I'd hate to think me being here had put anyone off coming. It would have been good to see some of the others."

John had noticed that there had been a rather unbalanced distribution in the evening, with a greater number of staff than students. However he put it down to the fact that these kind of events were generally for the older generation, who were either at a loose end for something to do to fill a weekday evening or just wanted to fulfil their curiosity.

"Wow, how egotistical do I sound? I promise my head can still fit through the door." Her face was serious for a few moments, before she broke out into another smile. "Let's talk about something other than me and my so-called woes."

She gazed up to the sky that was deepening dark, John following suit with his own eyes. It was almost painful how similar the night had been to back then, but it was reassuring enough to be different too.

"It was the Leavers' Ball." Sure enough, the memory cut through him like a knife. "The last time I saw you."

Anna tried not to sound too sombre about it. She remembered well; she could scarcely have forgotten. The sense of humiliation she had felt in those few moments afterwards had faded quickly, replaced with a longing that she had never been truly able to get over. She told herself enough times that eventually she would stop feeling that way. People around her went on dates, found partners, a few had even settled down and got married. She was more than happy dedicating herself to her career, knowing that she had the passion and conviction to see it through. But in some respects it was a double edged sword, especially given who much of that conviction came down to. It couldn't be denied; there wasn't a day that passed without her having thought of him somehow.

"Yes."

She deserved more than a one-word response, but he wasn't sure what he could offer her that would heal the hurt. Hurt that he had never wished to cause.

"Thirteen years ago. That seems crazy." She half-smiled as she pondered where the time had gone to.

"A lot has changed since then."

Her eyes flickered up to him instantly, and she didn't want to seem too hopeful but she found that she couldn't control it.

"For you," John added, and felt a part of him crush with the dejection that washed temporarily over Anna's face. He couldn't get her hopes up, even after everything. She was deserving of a far better man, and he still had so much more to do to get anywhere near close.

She recovered quickly, brushing it off almost as if it were nothing.

"I'll say," she answered with a smile that wasn't too much of an effort. "Got my three years of drama training."

John grinned as he recalled the many occasions he had encouraged her to get a proper education in the field. He knew she was clever enough to heed the advice, but it was still a relief to hear.

"Though you can never stop learning, not in this business," Anna exclaimed with a flourish which made John chuckle.

"That's very true," he replied. "And you're happy with what you're doing?"

"Very much so. I've been very lucky."

John shook his head firmly, causing the strand falling across his forehead to bob wildly. "Luck is only a tiny part of it. You get nowhere if you don't put the work in. And we both know it's hard to beat you when it comes to that."

Anna began to flush despite herself. Mr Bates was always forthcoming with his praise, but she remembered how he offered helpful criticism too. He was never unkind, and that was just part of what made him such a brilliant teacher whom she respected so much, as well as being a fine figure of a man. That only caused the crimson blush on her cheeks to increase, and she shook her head.

"Don't let people get you down, Anna." His voice was lower now, deeper in its sincerity, though he always spoke in such a way to her. "It's their own lookout if they choose to let things that don't matter blind them. It's their loss. And it's certainly not your fault."

It never was, the voice in his head was screaming for him to say aloud.

She smiled softly towards him, wishing she could reach out and take his hand, at least do something. Time had seemed to have flown and stood still all at once, and Anna was rather alarmed as she noticed the position of the hands on his watch.

"I promised Mrs Hughes I'd catch up with her before I went," she said somewhat apologetically. "And I do have to leave soon. I'm on a curfew, would you believe?"

John smiled as she rolled her eyes rather adorably.

"It really was wonderful to see you, Mr Bates."

He laughed to himself. It seemed some things would never change, but he didn't mind that much.

"And the feeling is mutual. Have a safe trip home, Anna."

"Thank you, you too."

She hesitated for a moment, bringing her hair back beneath her ear just to have something to do. Then she decided, to hell with it. She wasn't going to be in town for very long before she needed to be back filming, and he probably wouldn't want to see her again. But she had nothing to lose.

John watched as she brought her phone out of her clutch bag, as well as a pen and, after a fruitless search for a piece of paper, a tissue.

"My number, just in case you might want to catch up again. Properly," she added emphasis as she offered out the tissue with the scribble upon it. He was going to say something about how it wasn't a good idea, until he remembered again that she wasn't a student any more. And as it went, he certainly wasn't a teacher.

Anna felt a little wave of triumph as his hand took the tissue from hers, and a small series of tingles descended through her on the momentary brush of their fingers. She gave him one final smile before she headed in the direction he had came from, him remaining where he stood with a mirrored expression upon his face.

Stopping in her tracks just as she was about to go in, she looked over her shoulder to see his tall figure and his gaze directed at the ground.

"Mr Bates," she called out, making John respond with his eyes immediately. "I just want to know one thing. Have you been happy?"

Of all the things she could have asked. He had vowed that he wasn't going to lie tonight, and he hated that it was to her most of all, but it was for her sake which meant that it would only hurt him.

"I have."

The look of peace she left with was enough of a reward. Watching her disappear, John tried not to let the irony of the situation hit him, but it was impossible.

She would have been the only one who could have ever made him happy again.

A/N: For people who don't know the UK school system, sixth form is the upper level of high school where students do their A Levels which are the exams required to enter university or other form of higher education. Typically students are aged between 16-18 in sixth form, but I have it in mind that Anna and her classmates were 17 when they went into it. You can find a bit more information on Wikipedia.