The first thing that Anna realized the next morning was that John wasn't in bed with her when the bright light of the sun in her eyes awakened her.

She sat up suddenly and looked around, blinking in the early morning light. "John?" she said sharply. Her nightmares from the night before came rushing back and she wanted to throw up. "John!" she cried louder.

He stumbled into the doorway, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide. "I'm here," he said hoarsely. He stayed by the door, not entering the room. He'd put on another shirt and pair of jeans. His eyes were haunted and his entire body seemed small and fragile.

"I thought you were gone," Anna said with a little cry. She clamored out of bed and took a step toward him, but he took a step backward, retreating a little into the hallway.

"I've...I've been out in the living room," he said, his voice cracking. "I had to think."

Anna frowned. She could see that his eyes were puffy from crying. "What's wrong?" she asked. Realization suddenly sank in and she sat down on the bed slowly. "Is this about last night?"

He only swallowed and nodded, looking past her.

"Oh God," she said, her hand covering her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Anna, you have nothing to be sorry for," he replied, not looking at her. "I've been out there since you fell back asleep."

"Why?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Look, I thought I was fine with what happened last night, but now…" He ran his hand through his hair and breathed heavily, as if he was trying to keep his stomach from erupting. "I love you, and you know I'd do anything for you, but I think things went too far."

Anna's eyes teared up immediately. "What? Are you saying it's my fault?" she said in a quavering voice. She could feel her lip trembling as she spoke.

"No!" he said sharply, finally meeting her eyes. "We went too far and the fault is all mine. I'm supposed to be a priest, or at least if they will still let me be a priest after my hearing." He shook his head bitterly as tears streamed down his face. "I'm supposed to be stronger than I was. I should have stopped myself. I should have stopped you. What we did should only be shared between people who are married."

Anna stood up suddenly, her body screaming in pain. "Don't get sanctimonious on me, John Bates," she snapped. "You said a not so long ago that you were fine with whatever happened, because we love each other. And now, when whatever happens, you suddenly go back on yourself? You were an equal participant, and I know you enjoyed it just as much as I did. Last night, you said you were fine with what happened, that you were right with God. So what happened?"

"I had a reckoning this morning," John said quietly, leaning against the door frame. "I realized I was being selfish."

"Did you, now?" Anna shouted, waving her arms erratically. "Maybe we were both being selfish, but it's something we both needed. After what happened last week, I needed you to show me that you still wanted me and I think you were feeling the same way."

"Of course I still want you. But I lost control!" he shouted at her angrily. "This is the same sort of thing that happened when I was drinking, or...or even when I was with Vera! I fucking lost control and I cannot reconcile my faith with my…" He shook his head from side to side and practically spat. "The temptation is too great and I've already proven myself to be a weak man." He leaned his forehead against the door frame and gripped it so hard his knuckles turned white. "Last night was a mistake and I wish I could take it back. Doesn't matter what either of us needed or wanted, it shouldn't have happened."

Anna's vision blurred as her eyes filled with angry tears. "You know what? I wish I could go back ten days and relive that night and take that back as well, but it happened! But at least I know now what a hypocritical jackass you can be." She reached into her bag and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans over her shorts. "Maybe it would have been better if I'd just turned the wheel a little further to the left, you know," she hissed. "Then you wouldn't have had to deal with losing control of your hormones."

"Don't say that!" he almost cried. He took a step toward her and tried to touch her shoulder, but she jumped back. She slipped her feet into her shoes and grabbed her bag, hoisting it onto her aching shoulder. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, breaking down into sobs. "Don't fucking touch me! I can't do this anymore. It's done, John. It's over." She tugged her ring off and slapped it down onto the dresser with a sharp clatter.

She pushed past him and walked out the door as fast as her feet could carry her, toward the cab stand around the corner. She heard her name being called in anguish, but she ignored him.

II.

John vomited into the sink, losing what little bit of bile he had left in his stomach. He sank back to the floor and tugged at his hair harshly, tears somehow still streaming down his face. He couldn't believe he had any left.

It was bad enough that he'd lost control of his libido last night, but then he'd lost control with Anna today. He's lost his temper and felt a rage rise in him that he hadn't felt since he walked out on Vera. In the minutes after she left, he yelled every epithet he knew in her general direction, thankfully behind closed doors. He broke several glasses, flinging them at the wall of the kitchen. He cursed God. He cursed God.

Lacy had hightailed it into the laundry room where she'd been cowering ever since he began his tirade. Even she wouldn't look at him. At least he had the presence of mind to shut her in there so she wouldn't cut her paws on the glass. John's stomach heaved again and he didn't even manage to get to his feet before he'd made a mess on himself. He managed to tug his soiled shirt off and toss it into the hamper behind him, with the rest of his messy clothes.

He was a fine fucking piece of work. He was a sham. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. He'd done everything to circumvent his vows, all for what? A fumbling handjob and a morning of burning regret? He held himself so superior to everyone else because he was supposed to be a man of God. Look where it had gotten him. He'd lost his church and still may lose his collar. He would lose the roof over his head if the church let him go.

He'd lost Anna.

He'd lost Anna.

He wailed and curled into a ball in the corner of the bathroom, screaming in hollow pain. Everything he loved had left him. He began shaking uncontrollably, and he suddenly remembered the last time he'd lost control of his life like this and what helped.

John stood up carefully and pulled on a new shirt and his of sneakers, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed out the door.

His demons knew where to take him.

II.

Anna managed to stop crying before she reached Branson's Taxi Stand, two blocks from Downton. She talked to the driver there, who she assumed was Tom's older brother by the resemblance, and he agreed to take her to Gwen's place. He stupidly made a remark about some man breaking her heart and she lashed out at the poor fellow. He was now glancing at her in the mirror every few blocks, as if he was waiting for her to bite his head off.

A few minutes from Gwen's flat, she reached into her bag to get her phone and forewarn her she was coming. She fumbled around a bit before realizing with a sinking stomach that it was sitting on John's nightstand. She cursed loudly, earning a shocked pair of eyes in the rearview mirror. She could just bang on Gwen's door when she got there. It was three minutes later when she tried to pay her fare that she realized that she'd also left her wallet on the nightstand. She had no way to pay him.

"Look, I'll leave my bag here and run upstairs for some money. I'll pay you extra, okay?" she asked. "Just stay put for a minute or two."

Keiran nodded and settled back in his seat. "Meter's running, lass," he said with a shrug. "Don't matter to me."

She walked upstairs, her body aching, and cursing that Gwen's building didn't have an elevator, Gwen didn't answer when she knocked. She banged on it with her fist. Still no Gwen. Tears of frustration turned into anger that she had to go back to John's house to get her phone and wallet, if only to pay the cabbie. She carefully stumbled back down the steps and headed for the cab.

III.

"That's a good brand," the cashier said to John as he handed back his change. "Not cheap, either."

John nodded and hefted the bag in his hand. "Yes, I know," he said hollowly. "Used to be my favourite." His hands trembled and he took a steadying breath.

"You alright, mate?" the cashier asked curiously.

John shook his head no. "Bad breakup," he said slowly.

"Bitch probably wasn't worth what you paid for that bottle," the man laughed. "Enjoy it, and drink to her demise."

John gave the cashier a withering look, but he'd already moved onto his next customer. That was okay. John had stopped caring the moment he walked into the liquor store and picked up the bottle. The weight was the only familiar thing in his life right now. In five minutes, the flavour would be the other. In a half hour, the sweet oblivion would make him forget his troubles, if only for a little while.

IV.

The door was unlocked and she let herself in unannounced. Maybe he'd gone to the church to pray for God's forgiveness for being a stupid, arsefaced idiot of a man. She heard Lacy whining from behind the closed laundry room door. Then she saw the broken glass all over the kitchen. Her nose picked up the faintest whiff of sickness in the air, which made her own stomach clench. She slowly made her way back to the bedroom to retrieve her things.

That's when she smelled it. Strong alcohol. Sharp and cloying.

John was sitting in the middle of his bed, legs akimbo, a bottle of amber liquid in one hand and a glass in the other. His eyes were closed as he turned the glass around in his fingers, the liquid inside swirling about. She felt the sting of tears as she looked at him, her heart sinking further than she could have ever imagined.

"John!" she snapped.

His eyes immediately flew open and he sat up straighter. "Anna? What are…"

"You stupid, stupid idiot!" she shouted at him, gesturing at the bottle. "You're throwing your sobriety away now? Bad enough you've chased me off, now you're getting piss drunk?" She took the bottle from his hand and slammed it down on the table, sloshing a little out of the top. She took the glass as well and walked into the bathroom to pour it into the sink. "Can't believe you would do that!" she shouted, tears streaking down her face.

"I didn't drink any of it!" he shouted right back. "I bought it and I opened it and I fucking stared at it!" He swung his legs out to the floor and buried his face in his hands. "The smell makes me sick. I can't even be a proper drunk anymore, much less a priest," he said mournfully.

Anna emerged from the bathroom and reached one hand out to touch his shoulder gently. He startled and shrugged his shoulder away from her. "I've lost everything in my life that I hold dear. I've lost my church, I've lost my way, I've lost you. I may as well just lose the last shred of dignity I have left." His whisper haunted her in its finality. "You know, I thought about it last night. I was a terrible husband, even if Vera was a terrible wife. I wasn't a good brother, or even a good son. I thought I was a good vicar and then I let my lust and my anger control me, and now my job and my faith are in question. I've been terrible to you. The only thing I've ever been good at was killing people in the Army. Maybe Green was right. Maybe I am the Devil in disguise." His head hung low between his legs as he lamented his sins. He fell silent and still, save for his ragged breaths.

Anna said nothing. She simply picked up the bottle from the nightstand and took it into the bathroom, pouring it out into the sink.

"What are you doing?" John asked wearily from behind her.

"Stopping you from making the biggest mistake in your life," she snapped. "I won't be the reason why you fall off the wagon." She ran the tap to thin the alcohol smell in the drain, then tossed the bottle in the metal rubbish bin beside the toilet.

"The only mistake I made today was letting you walk out of my life," John said quietly. "I own up to everything else."

Anna's eyes burned with tears and she shook her head. "There was no letting about it, John," she said harshly. "I run my life. Not you, not...Green, not God. I walked out because I wanted to. I came back because I forgot my damned wallet and phone."

"Not for me?" His voice was so small coming from the bedroom.

"No." She closed her eyes and hugged her chest. "But maybe I was supposed to come back. Maybe I left them behind subconsciously. Maybe God snatched them from my bag and tossed them onto the table. Whatever it was, I'm here now." She braced herself against the sink and closed her eyes. "You're not the Devil, John, but you're certainly not a saint either. You're human, and so am I. You're doing the best you can with what you've got, and if that makes you a bad person, then we're all bad people."

His breath caught and he heaved choking sobs as he broke down finally. John shook uncontrollably, his face red and contorted in pain. Her heart thudded in her chest like a drum as she watched him cry. Anna climbed across the bed and sat against the pillows. She took him by his shoulders and gently lowered him into her lap, holding him like a child who'd lost a parent, who had a nightmare, who just found out that there was no Santa Claus. Her hand ran through his hair, sticky with sweat, and smoothed down his back. His entire body shook with wretched sobs and she held him throughout, just as he'd done for her the night before.

"You haven't lost everything, John," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "You have me. You'll always have me." She shifted so that she leaned over his face as he cried. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered into the shell. "I love you," she said, as she began to cry with him. "I don't know what I would do without you. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," he echoed her.

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry," she insisted.

John clutched at her leg tightly. "I'm sorry," he groaned loudly. "It's my fault."

Anna suddenly began to laugh, the absurdity of their war of apologies finally breaking her. She laughed in hilarity, bright peals of sound that made Lacy bark from her confinement in the laundry room.

Finally, she felt John's shoulders shake, not in grief, but in amusement. He laughed right along with her, turning his head to meet her eyes. His face was disgusting, all puffy and runny nosed, but he was still the most handsome and wonderful man she'd ever seen. She leaned over to press her lips against his to show him how much she loved him after all.

V.

After cleaning up the house together, they decided that Anna really needed to go stay with Gwen from then on, until the house was ready. There would be lingering tension between the two of them as long as she was there in the pastor's cottage. They sat down at the table and shared the last of the reheated soup he'd made the night before as they laid out a plan for the next three and a half months. He was right, it was just the sort of comfort food she needed.

They would finish the renovations on the house in two weeks. Somewhere in that time period, they would go furniture shopping. In three weeks, Anna and Gwen would move into the house together.

She and John would steadfastly control their urges. She'd come to accept that last night was probably not the best thing that she'd ever done, no matter how good it felt at the time, right up there with taking a hit of acid her freshman year of university. They would keep their hands to themselves. No skin would be touched other than what was already exposed by short sleeves or knee-length skirts. They would be chaste and pure and completely frustrated by October, but they would not give in. They were worth the wait for each other. As they laid out their plan and restrictions, if felt like they were signing a contract, both with themselves and with God.

At her suggestion, they changed their clothes and walked over to the church, hand in hand, needing to connect with their faith together. There was no one inside the nave when they entered, and they made their way to the altar and knelt side by side. John never let go of her hand as they prayed together. She prayed for guidance and serenity, and for John to be able to return to the church that he loved so much. She prayed for their futures together. And she thanked God for making her forget her phone and wallet.

The priest who had been filling in for John appeared from John's private office and gave them an appraising look. John nodded at him briefly, the priest returning the nod in understanding. He smiled at Anna and clasped his hands together in a silent indication that he'd been praying for her recovery. He left them alone after that.

Anna called Gwen and told her that she needed to come stay there and to not ask questions. John drove her there in silence, though he held her hand the whole way. Her left hand covered their joined hands, the diamonds sparkling in the sun, right where they should have been all along.

They pulled up to Gwen's building and both of them sighed simultaneously. Gwen was coming out of the building's front door just as John put the car into park. Gwen waved him off and reached into the back seat to grab Anna's bag. "Take your time," she said with a stern glance at John. Anna hadn't told Gwen what happened, but she was a decent guesser. She gave John a warning look and wag of her finger, then shut the door and headed back into the building.

"We're okay, right?" Anna asked quietly.

John kissed her hand. "We're okay. I've been reminded how many blessings I have in my life and to not take them for granted."

Anna smiled back and leaned over, stopping just short of kissing him. "Can I just say one thing before I step out and we become the perfectly chaste couple we're expected to be before marriage?"

John's eyes darkened and he swallowed nervously. "Go on…" His cheek twitched upward.

She slid her lips to his ear, whispering words just for him. "After what I discovered last night during our...explorations, I can't wait the honeymoon. The night of October nineteenth, all bets are off, love." Her teeth caught his earlobe briefly, then she pulled away with a sweet smile.

His own expression was sly as he looked at her sidelong. "You have no idea what you're in for either," he replied in a husky voice. "We'll just have to make up for lost time."

Anna giggled and gave him a quick kiss. "It's only a hundred and twenty four days, but who's counting?"

"I am," he said, giving her another kiss. "I'm counting every day and every hour until I can call myself your husband." He sighed and looked across her to the front door, where Gwen was waiting expectantly. "Go on now. I'm sure Gwen wants to know what happened."

"What happens in the vicar's cottage stays in the vicar's cottage," Anna said with a waggle of her eyebrows. She reached up to stroke his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Thank you for everything the past few days, John. I love you."

"I love you," he husked, and she was suddenly unable to stop herself from kissing him one last time, with urgency and passion and...measured restraint.

And so the longest three months of Anna's life began.

VI.

Anna met Emily for tea the last day she was in town. She was taking the train that evening to Heathrow, then onward to Los Angeles and home. She'd been there two weeks now, and her overbearing nature had been countered by Gwen's fierce protectiveness. The two of them circled each other like hyenas over a carcass. Eventually, Anna had to make it a point to only have Emily over to Gwen's place while Gwen was at work.

Her sister was quiet as she stared out the window of the little tearoom close to Gwen's flat. Anna took a sip of her tea and set her cup down with a little clatter. "Penny for them?" she asked.

Emily snorted and looked away from the window. "I was just thinking about how money can't buy happiness," she said quietly. "What you and John have is special."

Anna smiled and nodded in agreement. "It is," she said. "We try our best to be ourselves with each other. His job complicates things, but it also makes life much simpler. We don't want for anything but each other."

They were silent for several minutes as they watched people going about their lives outside the shop. "I left Dennis," Emily suddenly blurted out. She immediately grabbed her napkin and twisted it in her hands.

"What?" Anna asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," her sister said with no regret in her voice. "He'd been carrying on with his assistant for a few years. I kept telling myself that I could deal with it for the boys' sakes. The money made it easy as well. I didn't even have to see him except for official functions, when he needed to look like a family man in front of the charities. I was just trying to hold out for the fifteen year mark, when the prenup expired." She shook her head and tapped her nails on the table. "I couldn't do it. That's why you haven't been able to get ahold of me in a long time. I left him before Christmas. I've been living in a little place in the hills since."

"Em, I'm so sorry," Anna said, completely floored by Emily's revelations.

Emily waved her hand dismissively. "I filed for divorce just before I came here. And now that I'm here," she looked out the window at the grey and gloomy sky and the buzz of cars. "I really miss England. We're working out a deal for joint custody with the lawyers. I don't know exactly how things will work with the boys, but I'm thinking about moving back home. The prenup is ironclad, but Dennis offered me a pittance for my troubles in exchange for a quick divorce. Enough to get my own place and coast for a while until I find work." She snorted bitterly as tears began to pool in her eyes for the first time. "The only thing I've ever done is volunteer on charity boards. I've never actually made a dime in my life for myself."

"Something will come around," Anna said confidently. "Maybe John knows something through the church, or even the Crawleys. They have a lot of connections all across the country. When do you plan on moving back?"

Emily frowned, and Anna could see her mother in her sister's expression. "Before fall term starts. Perhaps early August. Dennis was talking about trying to get the boys into Eton when they're old enough, so he wants to establish their residency here soon." She glanced over and Anna and pursed her lips. "I drove past Mum's house yesterday. There were workers going in and out, so I stopped. It looks lovely, it really does."

"Em, I was going to tell you about the house…" Anna said uncomfortably.

She waved her hand. "I'd rather it stay in the family. It will be nice to visit sometimes. You do have my things somewhere, right?"

"Your Boyzone posters are safely tucked into storage, waiting for your return."

They shared a good laugh together. Over the course of the next few hours before she had to leave, Emily and Anna finally began to heal the rift between them.

VII.

John bounced his knee nervously as he waited outside the office of the Archbishop of York. The drive into the city had been uneventful, though his nerves were on edge the whole way. He arrived at Bishopthorpe Palace a half hour early and sat outside the gates for fifteen minutes before pulling his car up to the guard post. He announced himself and was allowed to continue onward, parking his car where he was told. The palace, which served as the home, offices, and private church of the Archbishop, was a stately place, well kept and imposing. John had been here once before, after graduating from the seminary and seeking to lead his own church. He'd met that particular Archbishop then, if only for a brief handshake and blessing, but he'd never met the new one.

As he sat in the waiting area, he stared at a painting of Saint George and the Dragon that hung prominently beside the door to the Archbishop's private office. He'd already battled the dragon once, and won. He had his flaxen-haired maiden. He supposed that Lacy was his noble steed. He controlled the laugh that threatened to bubble up just as the door opened and his name was called.

Archbishop Albert Travis of York was a small man with snow white hair and a somewhat pinched expression. He stood at the end of a table with a bishop on either side of him. One was Bishop Jeffries, who had personally relieved him of his duties. The other bishop he immediately recognized. It appeared that Edmund Nelson, Vera's first cousin, had made something of himself in the past twenty years since he'd seen him. It all made sense now.

The Archbishop's purple robes spoke to his position as much as the white and gold robes of the lower bishops beside him did. John stood before them in his severe and simple black with white collar, a humble parish priest called before his superiors.

"Lord Archbishop," John said, bowing his head slightly. Travis offered his hand and he shook it, then shook the hands of the other two men.

"Reverend John Bates," Jeffries said, glancing down at the paper before him. "Please, have a seat." He indicated the single chair opposite them at the table.

John sat down and laced his hands together, bowing his head in a quick prayer. "Thank you, Reverends, for seeing me in person and hearing my case," he said after he finished.

Travis nodded and sat forward in his seat, folding his hands together and giving him a frown. "Reverend Bates, we are here to discuss the matter of the accusations your ex-wife has leveled at you. I'm sure you know the sorts of things that your ex-wife has accused you of."

John tried unsuccessfully to contain the massive sigh that automatically happened at the mere mention of Vera. He nodded and steepled his fingers together. "I am, Sir," he replied shortly.

"What basis does she have for these accusations?" Jeffries asked.

"Which ones in particular?" John asked flatly. "Vera had quite a vendetta against me." He glanced at Nelson, who nodded in agreement.

Travis put on his glasses and looked at the list of items before him. "Let us start at the top and work our way down, shall we?" he said.

An hour later, John had managed to refute every single claim that Vera had made against them. He had brought along the paperwork from the court, including the court reporter's notes on their hearing. He pointed out the exact same thing that Anna had noticed about the alleged abuse photo, that there was a book that was too recent to have been from an old photo. Jeffries actually chuckled and shook his head, saying that his wife loved that book and always wondered what it was about. That earned raised brows from the other men in the room.

They were at the very last point, that of adultery. It was the only thing that they could conceivably touch him with. John laid out, chapter and verse, the exact nature of he and Anna's relationship by date and event, leaving out the more salacious details, of course.

"So, you say that you chose not to divorce your wife at the time because it was...inconvenient?" Travis asked with a frown.

"I'd lost my leg, lost my whole life almost," John explained. "Then I found God and my true calling. I saw Vera as something terrible from my past that I had no reason to ever bring up again. To divorce her at the time, even though we were not living together as husband and wife, would have simply been another failing in my life."

"But then, you decided to file for divorce this year after meeting Miss Smith?" Nelson asked.

"She was the catalyst, yes," John said simply.

"Because you wanted to pursue a relationship with her?"

John nodded and sat up straighter in his seat. "I knew as soon as I met her that God had sent her to me. And I knew within weeks of knowing her that she was everything that I'd ever dreamed of in a woman and that I wanted to marry her. I was blessed with a remarkable love from an amazing woman, and she was the last thing that had been missing from my life."

Travis narrowed his eyes. "Did you enter into a relationship with Miss Smith before your divorce from the former Mrs. Bates was finalized in court?" he asked, getting down to it.

John nodded. "Yes, I did," he said without hesitation.

Travis nodded as Nelson whispered something into his ear. "Prior to your divorce," Travis continued, "did you consummate your relationship with Miss Smith as if she were your wife?"

John bristled, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I did not. And I have not to this day. We will be married this October, and only then will we consummate our relationship. Not a day before." He ground his molars and sighed. "We have had some physical contact with each other without consummation, I admit."

"Reverend Quinn, who has been acting in your stead at Downton Abbey, informed us that Miss Smith recently stayed the night at your cottage on the grounds of the church, is that true?" Travis looked at him very seriously. "Was this in some way to make light of your vows, to thumb your nose at holy matrimony?"

John had enough. He placed his hands flat on the table and looked each of them in the eye in turn. "Reverends, a little over two weeks ago, my fiance, who you seem to have taken a great deal of interest in, was abducted by a man who intended to defile and quite possibly kill her," he explained in a low voice. "She herself told me after she awakened from a traumatic head injury that she was saved when God guided her hand and crashed her car, resulting in the eventual death of her abductor and her own nearly fatal injuries. She spent nine days in the hospital and was released only a week ago. She cannot go back to her home out of fear. The house we are currently renovating to live in once we are married will not be ready for at least another week. I brought her home to the parish cottage to care for her. She stayed one night and then went to stay with her best friend."

He stopped as his hands began to tremble. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. "I nearly lost the love of my life because the Devil reached up from Hell to try to snatch her away. But God prevailed. God saved her life and her soul, just as she has saved mine. I brought Anna home with me because I love her, because she is everything to me, and if you must know, I held her in my arms because she had nightmares from her ordeal. We both did. If she calls me in the middle of the night and needs me to do the same again, I will do so, whether it be in the parish cottage or our eventual home. I don't need your permission to love her or comfort her."

He squared his jaw and blinked away tears. "If you would take the vengeful and untrue ramblings of a bitter and hollow woman over mine, then so be it. If you would take away my parish because you see me as unfit to serve, then so be it. If you would strip me of my position within the church itself because you see me as an adulterer, then so be it." He fixed them all with a defiant stare, one by one. "But I will not have you question my faith in God, nor my faith in Anna."

Travis looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Thank you, Reverend. We will let you know our decision soon." He waved his hand toward the door in dismissal.

John nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Outside, Saint George stood triumphantly over the dragon, his sword held aloft to heaven.

VIII.

Two weeks after her abduction and the accident, Anna went back to work. This week was also her last week staying in Gwen's flat, as they would be moving into the house on Saturday. She and John had picked out all of the furniture and paint colours, and everything was being delivered and put into place on Wednesday and Thursday. She was excited about moving in, but she wished that John could join her immediately instead of waiting until the wedding, even if they didn't share a bed.

She awakened that Monday morning after Gwen already left for the morning, having decided to go in a few hours late herself. Anna flopped onto her back on Gwen's futon and stared at the ceiling for a minute before sighing and standing up on still unsteady legs. She was looking forward to the rather plush mattress that she and John had picked out. If she ever saw another futon in her life after this week, it would be too soon.

She went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The bruise on cheek was almost completely yellow, with only the very center still an angry raspberry colour. The scabs were beginning to flake off of the various cuts, leaving new, pink skin below. The long cut on her neck would take the longest to heal. She had an appointment in a week to have the stitches removed, but it seemed to be healing relatively fast as well. All in all, she had gotten off extremely lucky.

It was when she stripped that she could see what John didn't know about, or at least he hadn't seen them himself in the dimly lit bedroom that night. The five circles on her upper arm where Green had harshly pulled at her as she tried to escape the car. The purple bruising where she'd cracked a couple of ribs against the door during the crash. The cut at the small of her back where his knife had dug into her skin.

She showered quickly and efficiently, though she took extra time to shave her legs for the first time in two weeks. That act alone made her feel better about herself, her feelings about her concessions to modern beauty be damned. She covered her cuts and bruises with a little concealer, relieved that she didn't have to use much at all. Her favourite pantsuit fit a bit looser than normal, which she expected, as her appetite still wasn't completely normal. She took care to fix her hair just right. She gave herself a long, appraising look in the mirror and smiled in satisfaction.

She was back.

John waited out front to pick her up, passing her a foam cup of her favourite breakfast tea when she got into the car. "You look smart this morning," he said with a grin.

Anna smiled and took a sip of her tea, looking him up and down as well. "And look at you in your collar again, just like nothing happened. How did your hearing go?"

John pressed his lips together and stared out the window. "They said to await their decision," he said flatly. "Remember I told you that Vera's cousin that worked for the Archbishop? He's a bishop himself. He's the one who elevated her complaint that high."

Anna rolled her eyes and snorted. "Good to have someone at the top when you need to go about destroying a man's life for no cause," she said bitterly. "So what will you be up to the rest of the day?"

John pulled away from the curb and turned toward the highway. "Well, I have some work to do with the contractor today, to finish things up at the house." He looked over at her and winked. "You'll have a surprise waiting for you when you move in, so I don't want you snooping around until Saturday."

"Oh?"

His slight smile turned into a proud smirk. "You'll see. It's something we'll both like, but I got it for you."

Anna was aquiver with anticipation. "These next few days will kill me, you know."

John laughed. "Everything is worth the wait," he said in amusement. "You just have to be patient."

"Seems to be our modus operandi these days," Anna mused.

"Patience is a virtue," he reminded her.

"Well, whoever said that first never had to wait on our slow contractors," Anna groused as John laughed.

IX.

Anna and Gwen moved into the house that weekend, and it was everything John could do to contain his excitement as Anna walked around the house, trying to find his surprise. The kitchen was exactly as they'd planned it, with brand new appliances and mid-century modern aesthetics. The floors had all been refinished, the walls patched and painted. They added a shower to the downstairs half bath. The landscapers had done a terrific job of making the new plantings look like they'd been there for years.

"Alright, where is it?" Anna finally asked.

"Where's what?" John asked innocently.

She slapped him on the arm playfully. "The big surprise you were going on about," she said, rolling her eyes.

John only smiled and took her hand, leading her upstairs. He opened the door to the master bedroom. The new bed they'd picked out was set up, with linens and pillows already in place. Anna gasped and covered her mouth.

"That's not it," John said as he tugged her toward the bathroom. He opened that door to reveal the deep soaking tub he'd splurged on just for her. Of course, he planned on using it himself, and looked forward to using it with her, but in the end, it was for her. She'd lived in her flat for eight years without a tub of any kind, so he decided that he wanted to spoil her with the best.

"Oh my...gosh," Anna said, catching herself. She seemed to be working on her word choices lately, which he didn't care about, but he appreciated. She leaned over the edge of the tub and touched the bottom. "I love you. Have I mentioned that recently?" she asked with a silly grin.

"Hmm, not in the past hour or so," John replied, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms smugly.

She tapped the porcelain edge and looked over her shoulder at him. "Room for two," she said.

"I know."

Anna stood up and grabbed his shirt collar, kissing him soundly. "I'll wait until we can use it together then," she said against his cheek.

John blushed hotly as his imagination wandered. "Less than three months," he groaned.

Anna kissed him again, this time lingering long enough to make his head spin. "Like you said, love, patience is a virtue," she purred.

X.

Patience rewarded John with a phone call that afternoon from the Archbishop himself. After careful consideration and much deliberation, they had decided to restore John to his position at Downton Abbey. He wept in relief as Anna danced around the kitchen triumphantly. He was to return to work the next morning, and Anna had every intention of sitting front and center for his sermon.

They received another call an hour later from Robert, with more joyous news. His first granddaughter, Eleanor Sybil Branson, was born a half hour ago, with mother and daughter coming out of a very high risk third trimester perfectly healthy. John and Anna made plans to stop by the hospital that evening with blessings and a few boxes of diapers for the baby, chocolate for the now diet-free mother, and a manly baby sling for the father.

"You know that the math isn't really on our side," Anna said a bit sadly as she hung her clothes on her side of the closet, the news of the birth leading to their own discussion on children. "I'd be at least thirty-seven, and you'll be fifty-one. The statistics are terrible."

"You just have to have faith," John said as he lounged on the bed, watching her. He'd strained his back moving her dresser into the room, and Anna had ordered him to lay down with a hot compress. "Do you want to wait before we try?"

Anna shook her head with absolute certainty. "I don't want to wait," she said firmly. "I mean, I have faith, but I'm also a realist." She came to sit beside him on the bed and he draped his arm across her knees. She ran her fingers through his hair, earning a satisfied sigh from him. "Besides, we'll have a lot of fun practicing, if nothing else," she giggled.

John chuckled and stretched on the big bed. "Lots of rooms to practice in," he said with raised brows.

She leaned over him and gave him a quick kiss. "I've been thinking about the honeymoon," she said.

"So, Spain or Italy?" he asked brightly.

"Neither," Anna said with a shrug. "Seems a waste to spend all that money just to stay in the hotel room the entire week. Going out requires putting on clothes, and I don't know that I'll want to do that." She gave him a wicked grin that made his entire body melt into the bed.

John groaned and clapped his hand over his eyes. "These next three months are going to be intolerable," he grumbled.

"I agree. I suggest you work on your cardio, John," Anna said as she got up from the bed to return to her organizing. "We'll have a lot of catching up to do."

It was only fair that she got to torture him too.