Lakhimpur, India – Present Day

They trekked through the jungle, John using his hold on Anna's arm to steer her, and finally stopped at the edge of a hill. With a sigh he released her arm and dug into the waistband of her trousers to retrieve the knife. Flicking it open, John freed Anna of the plastic restraints and tucked the rubbish into his pocket as he handed the knife to her.

"It's still a bit from here but this'll make it easier for you to walk."

"How much farther is that?" Anna rubbed at her wrists and accepted the canteen John offered her.

"Not much. I want to get you closer to the road so you can use that instead of crossing over the jungle."

"Right." Anna followed him, keeping close in the undergrowth. "Why'd you bring me out this far anyway?"

"Other than to get you away?"

"Yes."

John shrugged, "Because it'll sell to Vera that I don't want your death associated with our operation. Out here they can't link you to us, reasonably, and if they do it won't be in enough time to stop us. And, more importantly, it means I don't have to dig your grave." John stopped at the expression on Anna's face, "At least that's how I'll justify it to her."

"Is that why you were so…" Anna rubbed at her arm and John winced at the sight of the bruises there. "Rough?"

"Unfortunately, yeah." John sighed, "Distracted as they were trying to subdue Green I thought it'd be foolish of us to blow it at the last minute."

"That's fair." Anna rubbed at her arm again before manipulating the knife in her hand. "And she'll believe that? She'll believe what we've done?"

"She's believed everything thus far." John shrugged again, "Why wouldn't she believe me now that I've-"

The justification for why Vera's faith in John was improperly placed fell to the stunning bloom of pain at the back of his head. In the half second his mind was granted perfect clarity, he registered the bludgeoning located somewhere behind his left ear and the pivot his body into the blow. A second later the pain engulfed his brain and he vaguely registered his shoulder hitting a tree, knocking his fall in the opposite direction, and he hit the ground on his side as his vision swam.

A steady pulse of pain pounded through his brain, taking over the opportunity for his nerves to even register the pain in his shoulder. For all his experience, as John struggled and flailed to even get up from the ground, John genuinely wondered if he blacked out from the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body or if the inevitable concussions was simply strong enough to leave portions of his memory permanently rewritten. But he forced himself to blink, to take in the pain and push through it with a flood of adrenaline at the sound of Anna's shout in response to a grunt, and get to his knees.

The world swam again and John's head knocked back with a boot to his chin.

This time he knew he blacked out. Not because the world went dark but because the swim of sounds that his ears took in sounded like a man and a woman. Their voices reached him through the fog of his mind trying to sort out the details of the moment and put them in chronological order, because the priority seemed to be his ability to remember the incident in all of its clarifying glory, before allowing his eyes to open. Layered pain confused his brain for the half a second it took for adrenaline to cover the screaming nerves and John rolled to his knees.

He blinked furiously, trying to stop the world tilting as his eyes watered, and pushed one hand off the ground to get to his feet. Overcompensating nerves had him registering the ache behind his ear and the slow trickle of blood there to match where he bit into either his lip or his tongue at the blow to his chin. The source hardly mattered and he did not spare a moment to touch the locations as he staggered sideways into the tree his shoulder knew intimately.

The world, still blurry as his focus split between trying to confirm his body could still move while gauging the situation, offered him an opportunity to increase his adrenaline. When he could understand the scene before him, the world came into sharp relief and the pain was nothing but a pinprick. In a second, more instinct than practice, John had his arm wrapped around Green's throat from behind and he lifted the man off his feet.

Despite the kick of heels against his shins or the elbow to his side, John took a step back and looped his other arm under Green's armpit. In a second he arched his back, lifting Green half a foot more off the ground, and put both of his hands behind the other man's head. A second later, with his fingers interlaced behind Green's head, he slammed the man down to the ground. A crack and a snap left Green limp in his arms and John loosened his hold to drop back onto his ass.

The rush of energy left John absolutely drained and the expenditure of his adrenaline had him falling back to simply breathe. After a moment, his chest no longer caving deeply enough to leave his stomach massaging his backbone, John got himself up onto his forearms. Before him, Green slumped over his own legs as they spread out… almost as if he simply sat with his legs open and spread. But the blue-black bruising immediately taking over his neck left John with no illusions that the man was simply unconscious. An unnatural tilt to his neck and the contusions of his skin had John almost collapsing back at the sight of a man with at least a broken neck of not a shattered spine from a move almost reminiscent of a WWE move.

A sound had John forcing himself to remain conscious and he took in the sight of Anna. She huddled off to the side, holding to her arms around herself, and John noted the sight of the knife off to the side. Red covered the blade and John immediately tried to gauge if it came from Anna but she appeared unharmed.

Pushing himself back to his knees and then standing, holding to a tree to stop himself passing out from the pain, John shuffled toward Anna. He extended her a hand but she recoiled from him. John, blinking to try and understand her expression or the situation in general, found all higher level thinking subdued to the need for basic functions. With a grunt, he pushed off the tree and moved to Green's body.

"How's this bugger get out here?"

Anna did not answer as she shifted away from John, her arms still held around herself. John gingerly felt around his injury and sighed at the stabs of pain at even his delicate touch. He drew his fingers back, noting the blood there, and shook his head for a second before stopping when it sparked more pain. "Bugger."

With another sigh, John heaved himself sideways and felt over Green's limp body before pushing the man backward so he hit the ground. A slight ripple went through him and John scrunched his nose at the sight of Green's body responding to death with the loosening of all of his muscles. But John managed to withdraw Green's handgun and held it grip-out to Anna.

"Take this." She frowned at him and John nodded at it while moving the gun closer to her. "You'll need this. You've still got five miles to go and he might not be the only bugger out here."

"Whe… Where…" Anna choked a bit on her words and John let out a breath when she finally took the gun from him. "Where do I go now?"

"The road's just…" John scrunched his eyes at a shot of pain through his head and pointed. "The road's that way. I would've taken you there but I… I need to fix this before Vera comes looking for him."

"He…" Anna pointed at Green, her hand trembling slightly with the move. "He… He got me and…"

John put it together and finally noted the open nature of Green's trousers. Closing his eyes, and tramping down the shot of fury that had nowhere to go now that Green lay dead before him, John leaned back against a tree. "Did he…?"

Anna nodded and John went to rub the back of his head but stopped when it touched his injury. "Shit."

"Do you…"

"You'll have to tell… When you get to my handler, you'll need him to get you medical attention as soon as you can. I don't know what Green does or doesn't have and…" John shifted and flinched at the pain now radiating through his body. "But you've got to get there. You need to leave now."

He extended a hand to her and Anna finally took it. "When you've got to the road, go north and send out the signal every five minutes."

She nodded and held the gun as if she was not sure what to do with it. John took it and went to tuck it into the waistband at the back of her trousers. When she shied away, John sighed. "You should keep this at the small of your back. Tuck it into the waistband of your trousers… Once you do them up."

He looked away as she tried to resituate herself, and helped her put the gun in the waistband of her trousers. Checking the SAT phone a moment, John confirmed it would transmit and handed it to her. "Remember, every five minutes. Keep it on a burst on this new channel so it won't pick up on the one I left in Green's tent."

"What…" Anna swallowed, "What'll you do?"

"I'll convince Vera he was helping you all along and tried to kill me to get you away." John pointed at his injuries. "I've an excuse for why I couldn't find you and why I killed him. So I'll drag him back to camp and get them distracted enough that you can get away."

Anna frowned at him, a shiver still moving through her body. "But that's… That's not all you've planned, is it?"

"No, it's not." John forced a smile, "But the next part isn't for you to worry about. You've played your part and you get to leave now."

"They could kill you."

"They could." John put a hand at Anna's shoulder but she shied away from him. Forcing a smile, John used that hand to motion in the general direction of the road. "Straight ahead, for ten or so minutes and you hit the road. Then it's-"

"North and a signal every five minutes."

"Good." John sighed, "Get going. Please. I can't do this if you're still-"

Anna nodded and reached out for him but withdrew her hand. When John frowned she extended her hand, still trembling, and laid it gently on his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for… For keeping me alive and saving me."

"I'd say it was a pleasure but it shouldn't have been necessary and I'm sorry." John swallowed, "But I'm glad I could keep you alive."

He turned away and reached for the knife Anna abandoned. The red caught John's eyes and he noted the slight cut on Green's left arm. Pursing his lips, John put the knife in Green's hand and slashed at his own chest. The cuts stung and he hissed at the pain before breaking Green's wrist. With the blood soaking his shirt, John removed it and dabbed at the injuries for a moment more.

Satisfied at the appearance, John did up Green's trousers and then tied the shirt around Green's front to try and cover the evidence of Green's bowels loosening in death. Puffing out, John took a deep breath and lifted the body in a fireman's carry over his shoulders. It took a few steps to check if he could take the weight but once John did he turned to look at Anna. "Get going."

She nodded and moved off into the undergrowth. John watched for a minute before turning back to the camp. Each step weighed him down and his body complained with each move but he made it back and dropped Green's dead body at the side of Vera's fire… Fuming almost as strongly as she was.

"How's this bastard get away from camp?" John pointed at him and then the injuries Green inflicted. "He tried to kill me and he got the girl away."

"He did?" Vera raised an eyebrow and John nodded. "You're sure she's gone?"

"I know she wasn't there when I came to." John pointed at the injuries on his chest. "But I know I got these when he came at me when I came to."

Vera frowned and flicked her eyes toward Green's wrist. With a nod, noting the purpling bruise there, she looked back at John. "He freed her?"

"Or he killed her and left her body deeper in the woods, I don't know." John put the heel of his hand to his injury and scrunched his eyes closed at the pain. "All I know is he attacked me and he's dead now."

"Better dead than alive then." Vera reached behind her and pulled out the box of blank bullets. "Found these in his tent. Hidden in his gun bag."

"Blanks?"

"And given the news that a few of his targets are still walking, I'd say he's been reporting on us for awhile." Vera pushed herself to her feet. "Wish I could've shot the bastard myself for betraying us."

"Explains why he was so upset when I had Little Miss Blonde then." John took the offer of a towel and pressed it to the injury at the back of his head before sitting as the camp medic came to his side. "What do we do now?"

"We keep going. One dead idiot's not going to stop me." Vera shook her head, "I should've shot him after he cocked up in Kabul."

"What happened in Kabul?"

"He let his dick think for him and raped someone." Vera shook her head again, "We had to burn the whole village and kill everyone to hide the fact we were there. I beat him to within an inch of his life and almost left him to die there."

"Yeah, maybe you should've." John shifted and hissed at the sting of the antiseptic dabbed over his chest and head. "He could've really cocked this all up for us and gotten us all killed."

"Then it's a good thing you were here." Vera waited until the medic finished. "And since he's dead now, it seems I need someone else to help me run this enterprise. Someone I trust."

She extended her hand to John, "Ready to get shit done?"

John, ignoring the pain still pulsing through his body, shook her hand. "Ready and at your service."

London, England – 1815

They took a turn about the garden every morning after breakfast. Breakfasts where they shared insipid details about their intended plans for the day. But in the garden… In the garden they discussed business and their possible social commitments under the privacy of cold and the cover of the bowers. After a few days, with all of John's scheduled meetings resolved, they prepared for the start of their honeymoon.

Two days before their departure, in the early afternoon, John looked up to a knock at his study door. Checking the time, and his date book, he frowned and called out to whomever stood beyond the door. "Come in."

Anna entered and smiled at him before holding up a letter. "I hope you've not committed to something for this evening."

"I had nothing planned." John pursed his lips, "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think we're obligated to attend this event and I didn't want it to conflict with anything you already had planned."

"Event?" John frowned as he took the letter and let his eyebrow raise as he read it. "It's rather late for a ball."

"Or early, depending on which holiday you're hoping to celebrate."

"You could say." John flicked his eyes from the missive to see Anna standing at the edge of his desk. "I'll assume you want to attend."

"I'm not sure it's about what we want?"

"No?"

"No." Anna shook her head as her hands held themselves at her waist. "We're in a position where it's expected of us."

"And?"

Anna took her turn to frown. "Who said there was an 'and'?"

"I can read your expression for it." John pointed at her with the letter, "There's something else you want to say."

Anna did not respond to that comment but shifted her stance as a small smile graced her lips. "I think it would help us."

"Help us?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"It would lend to our image." Anna took a breath, "And help solidify the work we've already put into the union we're cultivating."

"I think we've done well on that front."

"As do I but we're about to remove ourselves from society, even if for our honeymoon, and we've a chance here to solidify the position in which we've entrenched ourselves." Anna managed another breath, her fingers pulling at one another. "This can only help us."

"I couldn't agree more." John pursed his lips and nodded. "And it would be a way to celebrate our progress so far. A send off before our honeymoon."

"Wonderful." Anna took back the letter but paused, her fingers stroking along the edge of the envelope as if trying to crease the edge of the fold.

John studied her motions for a moment before he spoke. "Is there something about it you don't…"

"No, not at all."

"Then why are you creasing the invitation?" John nodded at her hands and Anna hurried to hide them behind her back. "If you don't want to attend then-"

"It's not about the ball."

John pushed himself back from his desk and sat up straighter to give her his undivided attention. "Then what is it?"

"It's…" Anna swallowed, "The day we married you brought me to this house and introduced me to the staff."

"Yes."

"And since then you've allowed me free reign over the running of the household and, if I interpreted your intentions correctly, I'm to the do the same at Bleakbriar yes?"

"Yes." John frowned, "Do you not want to?"

"I'm honored by the positions."

"But you don't want them."

"That's not what I'm saying." Anna took a breath, "I'm worried that I can't run households that you don't trust."

"I'm sorry?" John shook his head, "I'm not sure I understand."

"You introduced me to the staff here and, I assume, you'll do the same when we get to Bleakbriar."

"Yes."

"But you don't trust them."

"I do."

"Then why do we have fake conversations over breakfast?"

"I…" John stopped himself and swallowed, "I thought you'd prefer it that way. To ensure your privacy and…"

"And you're afraid of how they'll speak about me. About you and me."

"Yes, I am." John stood and walked around his desk to stand before Anna. "I know what they say about me. My valet, for all his virtues, is also a gossip. I know that I guard what I tell him because it'll be in the ears of the rest of the household in a matter of hours and who knows how far beyond the walls of this house given a few hours more. And that's to say nothing of the tendency for people to linger around doorways or corridors to try and catch any sign of interesting happenings they can muse about later."

"Then why employ them if you don't trust them?"

"Because it's the way of my position that I must keep my houses staffed. My level of trust for them extends to how well they can perform the duties for which I've hired them and, thus far, they've all performed admirably on that front so I have no leg on which to stand to deny someone employment simply because he gossips about my dinner jackets."

John took another breath, "However, for as much as I don't mind what they say about me, I do mind what they might say about you."

"Why?"

"Because I fear they already pity you for having married me." John offered Anna a sad smile, "I couldn't bear it if they pitied you for other reasons."

"Such as our agreements?"

"Exactly that." John pointed to the room about them. "Besides the garden, this room is the only one in the house I trust to be free of listening ears. Something that, as time goes on, I believe was an intentional decision on my father's part to be free of the ears constantly pressed to his doors."

Anna nodded and sucked the inside of her cheek a moment before speaking. "They've no reason to pity me, John."

"No?"

"No." Anna shrugged, "I wasn't forced into this marriage. I chose this for myself and I wasn't tricked into anything to be here. I know what this is and I know who you are. Those are not things for which I stand in need of pity."

"I'm flattered by that but-"

"But nothing." Anna drew herself up to her full height and tossed the letter onto the desk before grasping the back of John's neck and bringing their lips together with considerable force. John barely had time to even register the existence of the kiss before Anna pulled back and raised her eyebrows at him. "Does that feel like the action of a woman to be pitied?"

"I…" John tried to gain control of his thoughts. "I… no. No."

"Good." Anna released her hold on him and drew back. "Then I'll see that your valet and my lady's maid get us appropriate costumes."

"Of course." John blinked, watching Anna gathered the invitation and head to the door. She reached it, her hand on the knob, before he could find the words to speak. "May I… May I request something?"

"Yes?"

"Tonight, at the ball, may I…" John cleared his throat. "May I be your only partner? For the dances… If you'd…"

"Well," Anna released the knob and walked back to John, her fingers resuming their creasing stroke over the edge of the invitation. "I'll have to dance with the host, as is customary. And, if the Crawleys are there, I'll be obligated to share a dance or two with Matthew and Lord Grantham."

"To be expected."

Anna nodded, "And, if my stepfather is there, I'll have to have a dance with him. And you with my mother, obviously."

"Of course."

"But otherwise…" Anna smiled up at John, her fingers no longer stroking the invitation. "My dance card will only bear your name."

"Thank you." John swallowed and his hands twitched out as if to grasp hers but he stopped himself. "I… Thank you."

"You're welcome." They waited in silence until Anna whispered, "If you want to kiss me then you can."

"What?"

"I said," Anna's smile only widened, "If you want to kiss me then you can."

John nodded and leaned down to kiss her cheek. The flex of her muscles there signaled the fall of her expression. Before she could move, or John could submit to the fear, he grasped her upper arms with his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips with enough force to rival her forwardness a short time before. When he pulled back Anna could only blink at him.

Releasing his hands quickly, John almost stepped back. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to… What came over me was…"

"Desirable." Anna's smile took on a decidedly different depth now. "And I hope I have the pleasure of seeing more of it very soon."

"I… I… Yes… Yes you… I will…"

Anna gave a little laugh and walked back to the doors, leaving John stuttering in the middle of his study.

That was not the end of the consequences of the kiss. Whatever work John tried to use as a diversion for his focus simply swam and danced before his eyes, taunting him with the allure of productivity before his thoughts turned back to the way Anna kissed him. Or the way she appreciated him kissing her.

And not the simple kisses goodnight he left on her lips at the door to his room. Not even the ones they continued at the door to her room once inside their suite. Those kisses were tame. Or tamer. Somewhere between the kiss he gave her at their wedding and the one she all but demanded from him in his study.

It consumed John's mind until a touch at his shoulder almost had him upending his chair. His valet stepped back, eyes wide, and swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bounced to his collar and back to his chin. "My lord?"

"I'm sorry Andrew." John collected himself, standing and pulling at his waistcoat and jacket before clearing his throat. "Seems I've lost myself in thought and completely forgotten the time."

"It's why I've come sir." Andrew stood a little taller. "Her Ladyship advised I help you dress now since the costumes are…"

John cringed, "They're what?"

"A little intricate, sir."

"Intricate?"

"Yes sir."

John frowned and then shrugged, "I'll trust in Her Ladyship's judgment." He paused, "Unless you've a suggestion about the costume."

"I've no head for judgment about such things sir."

"Then we'll be in this together."

John trailed Andrew up to his dressing room and his eyebrows rose at the sight of the deep blue coat and matching waistcoat with silver filigree. "She's a remarkable sense of taste with color."

"I can agree with you there my lord." Andrew removed John's jacket. "I think she's played into the theme of the evening."

"Which is?"

"The Court of the Sun King, sir." Andrew shrugged as he hung John's waistcoat. "Not that I know much about the Sun King."

"He was not far from the French Revolution so I can understand why he'd be overshadowed in some respects." John worked into the trousers and shirt before extending his arms for Andrew to pin the cufflinks in place. "I think it's an excuse to have us in period style costumes."

"I think there are many excuses for that sir."

"We do tend to look back and think things were better in the past."

"I don't think they were better back then." Andrew brushed John's shoulders and then set his collar before stepping back for John to tie the complicated knot at his throat. "The future is innovation and improvement."

"I couldn't agree more." John accepted the coat Andrew opened for him and slipped his arms through the sleeves. "But we don't tend to judge the truth of the past any more fairly then we judge the potential of the future."

"Agreed sir." Andrew stepped to the side, "What time should I expect you for this evening?"

"I wouldn't think any time before midnight." John checked over the costume, his fingers running over the delicate stitching. "So I'll undress myself. There's no need to keep you waiting."

"If you're sure sir."

"I'm sure I can manage." John accepted the walking stick Andrew handed over to him and left the room.

For a few minutes, while waiting in the entryway of the house, John debated trying to finish whatever was left on his desk but the thought left his head almost as soon as it landed there. Partly because he could not even remember what work he had set himself to do before Anna entered with the invitation that afternoon. And partly… Or the majority part, was due to Anna's graceful descent down the stairs of the house in a gown as silver as the stitching on John's coat.

Her hair piled on her head, ringlets cascading from the mess of pins employed to keep the majesty of it aloft, and the effect left her almost radiating a glow not the least bit hindered by the Duchess's tiara nestled carefully on her head. Trailing from her shoulders was a cape to match the blue of John's coat and, like the coat, decorated in silver designs that caught the light to reflect and shine back on the viewer. And when she stopped before John, her face almost blank, his mouth was completely dry at the sight of her.

"What do you think, Your Grace?"

"I think…" John cleared his throat and forced a swallow to try and moisten his mouth. "I think I'm completely undone by you, Your Grace."

"And I believe you've paid me a rather flattering compliment."

"Then I'll need to pay you more so you're sure when I'm paying you a compliment." John extended his arm to her, "If you'd like, my lady."

"I'd very much like." Anna wove her hand through his arm.

They set off, taking their cloaks for the evening, and rode in silence to the ball. But they sat next to one another, Anna's hand still on John's arm. When he covered her hand with his she did not move it from his grasp. It stayed in place until they reached their destination. Then, with a kiss to the back of it, John released his hold and moved to help her from the carriage.

The lights and sights paled in comparison to Anna. They took the attention of the room when they entered but Anna played the perfect guest and quickly placed the host and hostess at ease by complimenting their costumes. As biased as John knew himself to be, he could not help comparing all others in the rooms as vague shadows of the elegance and grace Anna exuded by default.

When she danced, as he watched her with her obligated partners, John almost proved himself an embarrassment as being enamored with the sight of her distracted him from the path he needed to cut across the floor. After two close calls he abstained from dancing with any one else when Anna danced. He only wanted to watch her. That is, unless he could dance with her. No matter the orientation, she was a vision to behold and a vague pain in his cheeks seemed to signal that perhaps he smiled too broadly and too often at the sight of her.

Any time she caught him staring she blushed. Or shook her head at him as if that would deter him. Or pursed her lips as if to reprimand him from a distance before breaking into a smile or a little giggle as John took her into another dance form and led her around the floor.

When they finally broke away, the ache in their feet impossible to ignore, John helped Anna into the carriage and followed closely behind. The moment he was next to her, Anna reached out and slipped her fingers between his to pull his hand into her lap and kept it there for the whole ride. She relinquished it reluctantly before taking it back so John could help her from the carriage and into the house.

In the quiet, their hands still intertwined, John walked them to Anna's door. He paused there, taking a breath before he pivoted in place, and brought Anna's hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. "It was a pleasure to watch you dance tonight, Lady Reerbourne."

"Was it?"

"Of course." John lowered Anna's hand. "Like watching a goddess in all of her glory. You took over the room and outshined them all."

"I believe the dress helped with that." Anna plucked at the skirt but John could only shake his head. "No?"

"You are radiant every hour of every day." John swallowed and stepped closer. "Tonight you simply allowed the world to see you as I see you."

"And how do you see me, John?" Anna's voice was barely a whisper and her breathing hitched when John's other hand, his first still holding hers with his thumb rubbing over her glove, lifted to brush a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Like an exemplary person, then a bewitching fairy princess, then an impressive goddess, then an attractive woman, then an elect lady, and now…" John's hand gently formed around Anna's jaw so his thumb could brush the line of her cheek. "Now I see you as you are. As, I hope, the person you've always been and will continue to be."

He took another breath, "But, mostly, I see you as the Duchess. As my Duchess… If I can say that."

"You can." Anna's eyes did not leave his.

"Then can I kiss you as well?"

Anna manages a small smile, "You don't always have to ask."

"Then, in future, I won't." John's hand along Anna's jaw firmed slightly and he tipped her chin just enough to allow their lips to meet.

He kept the kiss soft and light at first. Not playful as much as delicate and gentle. More adoration and awed affection than seduction.

But Anna's hand in his tightened, tugging enough to off balance John for a step. In the second it took him to recover, doing his best to continue the kiss without using their lips as a point of leverage, Anna's other hand moved to the back of John's neck. Despite the slide of the silk gloves, Anna dug her fingers into the skin there and held tightly so she could adjust the angle of her mouth under his.

Like the kiss in his study, John quickly lost the control of it to Anna. The fervor of her moments almost betrayed a ferocity to her motions but John only tempered them when her exuberance threatened the balance of their positions. Otherwise he continued under her efforts and guided her intentions by opening his lips when her tongue ran across them. Or sucking deeply in turn when she explored his mouth with such efficiency it left him gasping.

Eventually the need for air broke them apart but John leaned over Anna, his chest almost reaching hers with how deeply he pulled for breath, and continued running his thumb along the silk of the glove still in his grip. Anna shifted closer and sighed when John's forehead rested on hers. A flex of her fingers reminded John of their place at the back of his neck and he opened his eyes to meet hers.

"I don't want that to end."

John ran his tongue over his lips. "We've an early start."

"I know." Anna's eyes closed and she let out a disappointed breath. "I… I want… I want more but…"

John pulled back enough to see Anna's face. "But what, Anna?"

"But I'm not sure I'm ready for… For what comes next. For all of it, anyway." Anna bit at her lip. "I… I want something more but not…"

"Not everything yet?" Anna nodded and John ran his teeth along the inside of his cheek a moment before swallowing. "There might be a way."

"Truly?"

John nodded, "We could go to my room and-"

Anna used their shared grip to tug him back toward her. "I'd rather we stay here, if you don't mind."

"The corridor's hardly the place for what-"

"I meant," Anna released his hand and pushed open the doors to her room, stepping inside. Once across the threshold, Anna extended her hand to John. "I'd like to invite you, John Bates, into my room. Do you accept?"

John smiled, "I do."