Yorkshire, England – Present Day

Shifting to take up Vera's view, John cleared his throat. "Then, your friends aside, I'm curious how you got here. How you found me."

"Playing for time?" Vera clicked her tongue at John, "I thought you were smarter than to try and play me."

"And I thought you'd be smart enough to know that if you distracted me with a signal from the front gate before storming the proverbial castle you'd also know that there's no one coming to the rescue because they've not been called." John held out his hands, showing his lack of weapons. "Humor me? For old times' sake."

"The same old times that had you trying to fight me into the ground?"

"It's not like you didn't enjoy the struggle." John shrugged a shoulder. "And you never turned down an opportunity to prove how clever you were."

"I'm clever because I'm not stupid and I don't fall for stupid tricks."

"No trick." John took a breath, "I'm just curious how you've been testing the house's systems. Getting around the defenses that Henry was kind enough to set up was supposed to be impossible."

"Nothing's impossible."

"I guess I overestimated Henry then."

"I guess you did." The man off Vera's shoulder snorted. "He wasn't so hard to crack once we got him it was nothing."

John suppressed the urge to raise his eyebrow at the man, who sneered at John in response, and the imperious expression that left John rolling his shoulders as if trying to rid himself of an oily sensation. "Like an egg, was he?"

"The second we got to him." The man mimed cracking an egg in half and his smile curled into a new level of sinister.

"I doubt that very much." John shook his head, catching Henry's eye as the other man gave his head the barest of shakes. "Because if he told you everything than you wouldn't have brought him along."

"Maybe we just wanted him to see his downfall." The man's knee kicked into Henry's shoulder and Henry grunted as he bent into the abuse. "Have him witness the destruction he caused."

"That doesn't seem like your style." John pointed at Vera, "Unless you being on the run got's you going soft on your opponents."

"There's not a soft part of me." Vera shook her head. "You should know that."

"It's what's got me very confused." John chewed the inside of his cheek. "None of this seems like you."

"Maybe this experience has taught me to test out alternative methods for achieving my ends." Vera bent enough to grab Henry's collar and hauled him up from the floor to throw him into the other man's hands. "Especially after Barrow reminded me that I'll need a patsy for what we're going to do here."

"And Henry's your patsy?"

Vera snapped her fingers and pointed at John. "There you go. You're still smarter than you look."

"I live to impress."

"You do it occasionally." Vera sighed, "And when Barrow suggested it I realized that it was a brilliant idea."

"Especially given he set up the network?" Anna's voice broke John from his focus on Vera for a second and he shifted, almost automatically, to stand between Vera and Anna.

"You're not as dumb as you tried to make me believe in India." Vera snapped her fingers and pointed at Anna. "But, then again, pride bringeth the fall as the saying goes… Sort of. And I was too prideful to believe you could be my downfall and look at what happened there. And him…"

Vera tousled Henry's hair, "His pride was thinking we couldn't get around his genius system with old fashioned recon."

"Old fashioned recon?" John frowned, "Like what?"

"I had Barrow and O'Brien here come and do tours." John closed his eyes and sighed as he heard Vera's laugh. "What? Did you forget that you live in the basement of a historical site? That I could find your family history with the help of my moles? Did you think you'd be that hard to find?"

"I'd hoped." John flicked his gaze at Henry, who only hung his head a second in response. "But I guess you're planning to have Henry fall on the sword you're erecting under him."

"He's got no other purpose on this little crusade, does he?" Vera shrugged and gave a false laugh. "The poor dear. He didn't do the best of jobs in keeping you lot safe here, did he?"

"He tried his best."

"Which wasn't enough." Vera gripped her fingers in Henry's hair to move his head into her vision, pouted at him, and then shoved him back into Barrow's grasp. "He and his couldn't find out who my moles were. He couldn't keep you safe. He couldn't save you in Nepal."

Vera closed the distance between she and John. "It's poetic justice, in a way, that he'll die for his sins where you're concerned."

"He kept us plenty safe."

"Until he couldn't catch us on any of his fancy cameras." The woman, O'Brien, spoke now. "We didn't even have to sneak in. We booked tickets and toured this house so many times and yet he never caught us. He didn't even catch the tap we put on his system to hack it from the outside."

John swallowed and focused on Henry. "Do I need to ask if you sold us out, Henry? Is that where all this is leading?"

"Him?" Vera snorted in time with the mirthless cackles of Barrow and O'Brien. "Wouldn't that've been rich but no, he's on your side. Disgustingly so, to be honest, but no. He's not mine."

Vera tapped her hand against John's cheek. "No, he's just the only person who was still fighting to keep you safe while I had enough between Barrow and O'Brien and the little secrets and lies they had at their disposal to launch a veritable army against you." Vera gave a satisfying snort. "You'd be impressed what you can accomplish when you've got people in a bind they can't escape."

"Blackmail always was your favorite game."

"People are so easy to squeeze when they insist they've something to hide." Vera slid her fingers against one another as if asking for money. "It makes them vulnerable and desperate. They're yours even more than if you physically held their throat in your hand."

"Sounds addictive."

"It's decadent." Vera sighed, "But I'm not here to tell you that your friend is not as smart as you thought."

"Are you here to tell me that when we get comfortable we think we're safe and that makes us complacent?"

"No, but that is your mistake." Vera patted John's shoulder. "You've made so many of those."

"And you haven't?"

"We're not here to dwell on my sins when yours are about to be counted out for you before whatever god you believe in." Vera stepped back to take her pointer fingers and jab it into John's forehead. "I'm more curious to see what's actually up here. I never thought there was much there but now… Now I'll really know."

"I guess you will." John swallowed, "Which has me asking what you even bothered to come all this way."

"Because I wanted to end this myself." Vera studied John. "Once you're in the ground and she's dead, I can move on without the dark cloud over me."

"We can't just live and let live?"

"After what you and she destroyed out from under me?" Vera shook her head and reached behind her to draw a gun. "Absolutely not."

John swallowed, staring down the barrel as Vera held it against his forehead. "No last words for me?"

"Those were it."

It only took a moment. A twitch of Vera's finger on a delay at the sound of a cry. A cry that brought six heads up from their focus on the moment. But a cry that John recognized from many nights and mornings and afternoons and evenings catering to its whims and wills.

Michael's cry echoed through the corridor and John seized the chance.

His fingers curled around Vera's wrist and forced her hand upward, pointing the barrel of the gun at the ceiling as Vera's finger reacted to pull the trigger. The shot rang in the small space but John used his moment to ram the right side of his body into Vera to knock her off balance. With a step, notching his right foot behind Vera's, John pivoted to put his back to Vera's chest and use his momentum to bring the force of his left elbow under Vera's ribs.

The hit to her solar plexus drove the air from Vera's body and John took her bend into the action to overextend her right arm. It overbalanced Vera's position and John risked shifting away from Vera's body to bring her right arm down on his right knee. Snapping her elbow against the carbon fiber of his leg, John winced at the crack that echoed in the corridor but snagged the gun from Vera's now limp hand.

It only took a second after that. With Vera stumbling to keep herself on balance and cradling her broken arm, John had only to hold the gun in his left hand and level it at her. Their eyes met and John, for a second, fancied that she would acknowledge the loss. That she might surrender.

Instead she charged.

Her weight took him in the midriff and John shuffled-stepped back into the wall, losing the air in his lungs to the blow. His fingers tightened on the gun and he kept his left arm wide to stay of out reach of Vera's movements. Movements he tried to stop when he brought his right elbow down on her kidneys.

She bent into him but her knee came up and snapped John hard in the crotch. This time he bent over her, wheezing in pain as he tried another elbow strike. Vera twisted with this one and John soon found himself leaning heavily into the wall to stop himself tumbling right onto his ass.

The gun scraped along the wall but John held it as he regained his footing, facing Vera again. For a brief moment he caught the background noise of O'Brien banging on the door to Anna's room and he desperately hoped Anna had barricaded she and Michael inside. But then Vera came into view again and John dodged another attempt for her to tackle him into the wall. Instead she drove them back into the kitchen and John barely avoided hitting his back on the counter.

This time he did fall onto his ass and gun skittered out of his hand.

His landing forced John onto his hip to roll but his movement halted when a force struck down on his right leg. The jarring shudder rang up John's body and he saw Vera standing on his leg, grinding her heel into him. John instinctively flinched in response to Vera's expression and she put all of her weight into her posture, grinding down into his calf.

But he felt nothing. There was no calf there. There was not even a real leg under her. All that took her weight was a carbon fiber fabrication linked to John by easily detached catches.

In a second, his fingers flying with experience and adrenaline-fueled desperation, John unlatched his leg through his trousers. A moment later he slid over the smooth floor, his hand grabbing for the nearest shelf door to haul himself into a sitting position. His momentum shoved his back into the counters and he grunted with the strike as air left his lungs in a rush.

It was nothing compared to the confusion that broke the pain-fueled rage that etched and colored Vera's face. Her moment of struggle, trying to figure out how John escaped a leg she now stood on, gave John the second he needed to locate the gun. Another shove and dive of his weight, his remaining foot pushing off another counter to get him closer to the weapon, got John close enough to wrap his fingers around the grip.

A tug on his loose trouser leg hauled John backward and he struggled to keep his fingers on the gun grip as he dragged over the floor. He barely kept a hold, twisting and struggling against Vera's grip, and even kicked out toward her. But Vera dodged the attack and brought her heel down on John's real leg hard enough to ding his shin and send John's teeth into his tongue to stop himself crying out in pain.

But just as she scrabbled at him, her weight landing on his midriff as her fingers clawed for the gun, a cry rang out from the hall. It took Vera by surprise but John had listened to Michael cry before. He knew the sounds the boy made and this one, coming through the corridor, told John one thing.

Michael was frightened.

John would not have that.

In another second, primal protective instinct dosing him with another round of adrenaline, John had the gun securely in his grip. In another his aim was true and the looming expression of Vera's ugly, dark expression filled his vision. A second after that his ears rang with the deafening explosion of black powder as the hammer struck the ignition and the bullet flew from the gun.

He could hear it because sound traveled slower than the speed of light. And given the distance his brain had to try and sort out the sound before it could comprehend the image before him. Or help him realize the momentary wet heat on his skin came from the spatter of blood from the wound now breaking the skin of Vera's forehead.

An almost perfect circle, marred by residue from the point-blank nature of the range as the barrel of the gun was almost close enough to touch the skin itself. Nothing like the exit wound that John could only guess was sizable given the way the wall of his kitchen behind Vera's head now bore a new, almost Pollock-like painting of red. And nothing like the way it only took a second for the demonic glint in Vera's eyes to dull to nothing as her pupils widened with the strike of death.

Her weight settled on John and he struggled to shove her off him. The tight confines of the space between the counter and the island forced John to slid backward, twisting and shimmying his hips to give himself the leverage he needed to escape her dead weight and leave it thudding on the floor. And even then John fought himself sideways to grab enough of the counter to get onto his one leg.

Hopping in what might be undignified if he had a moment to consider the idiotic appearance, John hurried back to where he left his prosthetic. It took him a moment to get it off the floor, the gun in his hand not giving his already shaking fingers enough leverage to grip it, but he managed it and then took a moment for his mind to understand why he could not shove his leg back on with his trouser leg in the way. But once he worked out the confines of the material, John wrenched the leg back on, stumbling sideways into the wall as he set the last catch.

Resettling the gun in his grip, peeking around the corner as he did, John assessed the sight before him. There was Henry, still battered and bruised and looking altogether the worse for wear, fending off O'Brien. The woman did not have a gun but sharp elbows and a consistent striking pattern had Henry employing mostly dodging motions to try and stay out of her range. The almost distraction-like nature of her approach confused John until he noted where the other man, Barrow, currently occupied himself.

Barrow tossed his weight at the door to Anna's room. His shoulder seemed to serve well enough to shake the door in its frame and John could tell, even from his position, that another few good hits and the hinges would give out under the continued assault. So, setting his shoulders and tapping into the primal instinct that already proved enough to take down on predator, John charged down the corridor.

Given the close quarters he turned the gun in his grip and used it like a striking weapon against Barrow's head. But the man turned at the last moment, perhaps alerted by the sound of John's steps, and the gun struck the side of his jaw instead of his temple. It was enough to get Barrow away from the door and stumbling back into the wall but not enough to completely incapacitate the man.

They watched one another for a second and then Barrow charged.

His weight hit John full in the chest and his hands flew open to try and catch Barrow's strike. With a shoulder driving into his diaphragm, John fought to keep his breath but lost the gun as it clattered from his grasp for the second time. But with a sold elbow strike to Barrow's kidney the other man disengaged and they adjusted their stance in the corridor.

A set of wild haymakers came at John next and he tried to duck and dodge them more than he deflected them. Two caught him on the shoulder and the sides before John backed up enough to use his longer arms to his advantage. Slapping down two of Barrow's kicks, hampered by the man's choice of trouser, John brought a one-two punch combination to the man's face.

Barrow took the first right on the cheek bone and John guessed the crack with either the cheek or the orbital socket. Given the bloodshot nature of Barrow's eye when he pulled back from the second strike, the one that hit him square on the nose, John guessed he managed to break Barrow's eye socket and crush the cartilage in his nose.

Blood wet John's knuckles and he shook it off as he brought his fists up to defend his face again. They took a second to circle one another and then John caught Barrow's signal. A feinted step to the right had John almost raising his right arm to block a left but he noted the shift in Barrow's weight.

With Barrow's right arm coming hard at John's left, John ducked under the swing, punched hard with his left into Barrow's right side and brought up his right fist under Barrow's chin. The uppercut lifted Barrow off his feet and he hit the wall high before slumping back down. But when he tried to regain his feet John brought the blade of his right hand in a backhanded strike at Barrow's throat.

Barrow hit the floor, gasping and wheezing from breath as John brought his heel down hard. It struck with a crack on Barrow's right knee, leaving his leg at a sickening angle and leaving him unable to move. The man could only wheeze harder, prevented from crying out by the loss of his ability to speak, and John left him gagging on the floor to find the gun again.

But when John raised the gun to aid Henry he saw the other man holding his lanky arm around O'Brien's throat as the woman's hands beat at him. They slowed as the air left the woman's lungs and her eyes rolled up into her head. A moment later Henry released his grip and O'Brien slumped to the ground, Henry not far behind her.

He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and offering the weakest salute he could in John's direction. John returned the nod, holding the gun at the ready should any of the would-be attackers move, before he rapped his knuckles lightly against Anna's doorframe. Waiting a moment, John went to do it again but Anna's voice came through the door.

"John?"

"It's me." John coughed, swallowed, and tried again. "It's over Anna. It's over. They're all down."

"Are we safe?"

"Yes." John closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the door with a sigh. "Yes. We're safe now."

Yorkshire, England – 1818

His fingers tightened until his knuckles whitened as he held the sheets. Part of his imagined he could feel the dig of his nails into the skin of his palms. But whether or not he left marks in his skin was beside the point. The point was that Anna's tongue continued to track its way over his erection and his control waned with each lick and suck.

The whines and whimpers she rang from him were nothing but white noise in John's head as all of his senses overloaded and every hair on his body stood on end. It was all he could do to try and suppress the building pressure at the base of his spine. As his hips bucked off the bed, he struggled to speak, to express the primal urge to simply release into the welcoming heat of Anna's mouth, but words failed him. All he could do was whimper.

Somehow Anna understood and she withdrew, a soft pooping noise signaling the potential end to his torment. The sweetest of torments to be sure but torment nonetheless when Anna gave him the self-satisfied smiles and borderline lecherous grins that left him shivering with anticipation. And when she rose up to straddle him, her legs bracketing his so her feet could hook under his knees, it was all John could do to keep looking at her instead of allowing his eyes to roll back into his head with the sight.

He did have to close his eyes to keep himself from releasing the second she sheathed him. The slick slide of her, followed swiftly by the rolling rise-and-fall of her hips on his forced the air from John's lungs. Then it was all he could do to try and focus, to stay conscious and present with the pleasure the suffused every fraction of his body.

It was the sight of Anna that undid him. With her hair falling freely, golden in the light of the morning as it caught the sun and glinted over him, gave the impression of spun sunlight. And the steadiness of her gyrations over him had John feeling as if he were only the tool of her pleasure. But how wonderful it felt to be her tool. To be an instrument in her capable hands as Anna rode John steadily to find her own pleasure and grant some back to him in return.

The graciousness of a goddess. The generosity of a nymph. The kindest torments of an angel bestowing blessings with divine radiance. And when Anna rose, her cries and sounds rising higher and higher as if she intended on reaching the heavens with her noises, John fought the urge to follow her.

This was hers to take.

And take she did. With furiously focused movements, bordering on the frenetic when her face scrunched up in desperate search for the climax she needed, Anna's fingers flew over her clit. A second later she tumbled from the height, basking in the glory of its exuberant pleasure with shudders and quivers that left her trembling over John.

It took herculean willpower to stop himself. To focus on Anna as she slowed her motions, her nails scratching lightly against his skin as if seeking a hold on him to provide the grounding she needed to return to earth. And when she paused, her breath hot against John's skin, he finally rested his hands on her hips.

Their eyes met. Not as a challenge in a struggle for dominance but as two strangers, friends, lovers, companions, bonded beings remeeting in the aftermath of the exquisite moments where they lost one another for a moment. A second to recognize one another again and ground themselves in the slivers of eternity between seconds.

Once there, their breathing synchronized. John's fingers joined Anna's at her folds and clit, rubbing only just enough to bring Anna's fritzing nerves back to life, and his hips rolled into hers. Their motions ran together, syncopated and then synchronized like their breathing as they fell into familiar and wonderful step with one another in their quest for another glorious finish.

They did not change position. Anna's knees tightened against John's hips and she adjusted her position only slightly so John could thrust deeper into her. If anything they drew even closer together. But when Anna almost stretched herself over John, he surprised her.

With a heave, John sat up, one of his arms wrapping around Anna's waist to pull her tighter to him so he could grind more deeply into her. Anna's voice rang out, gasping to the air as John's foot hit the floor and he utilized the leverage from the end of the bed to piston his hips into Anna's and drive more deeply. Her fingers dug into the skin of his shoulders and her kisses dotted his neck when he did and John only sped up the movements of his hips against hers.

They attempted to exchange kisses, turning almost sloppy in their struggles to find one another's mouths with their own. But it was satisfying enough as air soon turned to a precious resource and they refocused on kissing any available skin they could reach. As Anna's lips tried to map the expanse of John's neck and shoulders his lips found her breasts and sucked hard on one until Anna's vaginal walls fluttered and clenched around him.

The clinging grip added to the sensation of her sopping heat and John gasped into Anna's skin as his fingers furiously fought to bring her back to the edge. She tumbled over it a moment later, half of her exclamation lost in the skin of John's shoulder. The other half of her cry rang in John's ears as he gave his own grunting groan of a finish as a poor harmony to the air.

They sagged back, breathing hard as their sweat-slicked skin stuck and slid together. John's back landed on the sheets and he blinked against the haze of the ceiling with Anna's weight rising and falling slowly on his chest. She slid to the side a second later, one of her legs falling over his as her breasts pressed into his arm. Her fingers slid without focus over his chest and John caught them with his own, pressing a kiss to them without looking.

"Does that mean you're pleased with the news?" John finally spoke, his voice more hoarse in his ears than he expected.

"How could I be anything less?" Anna's lips touched his shoulder and John turned his head to look at her, his breathing settling slightly as he returned her smile. "I think it's a marvelous idea."

"It'll be a little more difficult. And a longer trip now that I've got a bit more of a clunk to my step."

"But at least you can step." Anna's hand moved from his chest to gently trace the scar below his right knee where his leg ended. "It's a miracle."

"That it is." John's fingers brushed a bit of hair behind Anna's ear before he followed the line of her arm down to her elbow. There he broke off to trace at her abdomen. "Just like this is a miracle."

"That's not as much of a miracle as you'd think." Anna grinned at him, bending down to nip lightly at his ear before drawing back. "We both know that practice makes perfect in these matters."

"If at first you don't succeed…" John lifted himself enough to kiss at Anna's shoulder and then to track toward her breasts. "Try, try, try, try, and try again."

"And have fun in the trying." Anna's other hand speared into John's hair, holding there and flexing as John lavished his attention over her skin. "Yes, John."

They turned now, John used the leverage of his half-leg to urge Anna onto her back. He was not ready to continue himself, his body still buzzing with the sated sensation of being so recently expended, but Anna's body still tingled and sang with the delightful suggestion of readiness. A song that John would be a fool to ignore.

So he did not.

Instead he traced and tracked kisses over Anna's body. Following her directions – some whispered, some spoken, others cried out, some hushed, and some signaled with her fingers flexing into his hair or by her nails digging divots into his scalp – John found his way between her legs. There, still glistening and wet from their mutual orgasm, John bent to taste her. To chase the high with her. And to leave Anna absolutely wrecked and trembling with her finish when he finally pulled back and licked the remains of their combined taste from his lips.

"You are incorrigible." Anna could only sigh, the dazed expression on her face reminding John, once again, of a satisfied and sated goddess.

"I only do the diligence a beauty like yourself demands of me." John crawled back to Anna's side. "You are my goddess and I worship penitently at your altar."

"Wouldn't that require kneeling?"

"Any time you wish it, I will." John kissed Anna, falling into the depth of it when her hand cupped the back of his head and held him to her so her tongue could trace the inside of his mouth.

She hummed against his lips before pulling back. "Then we'd best get our fill since the road won't be kind to us in this."

"No, I daresay I'd rather not leave you crying out your climaxes in public houses." John dodged the half-hearted swat Anna aimed for his shoulder. "Here the corridors are long and the house is large and the only one to hear you doesn't quite understand what it means at present."

"And yet I will miss him terribly." Anna sat up, arranging herself next to John as he lay back on the pillows. "Couldn't we bring him with us?"

"For similar reasons, I don't think bringing our son on our factory tour is a good idea." John took Anna's hand and kissed the back of it. "I understand why you want to, and I do too, but we shouldn't."

"But I'll miss him terribly."

"So will I." John kissed her hand again. "But he'd hate it. He's too young Anna."

"I know." Anna sighed again, "It'll only make it that much harder this time."

"My new wooden leg aside?"

"That aside." Anna snorted, "How different it all is now."

"Times change and we must change with them."

"I know." Anna urged John to sit up with her and she curled into his side. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No." John's other hand rested on Anna's abdomen, his fingers stroking lightly over her skin. "But some changes are good. You'll like this one."

"I know I will." Anna rested her hand over his. "I hope it's a girl."

"So do I." John leaned over to kiss Anna. "With your golden hair."

"No." Anna shook her head, "I want her to have your hair. Johnny's already got my hair. We need one with your hair."

"What about the one after this one gets my hair."

Anna brightened, "Another little boy?"

"Another brooder for you to worry over?"

"And then a little girl with my hair." Anna tucked herself back into John. "And then a boy, and a girl, and a boy, and a girl, and a-"

"I think," John interrupted her, kissing the top of Anna's head. "We'll get through this one and see what comes next."

"With the rate we're going, we'll have a brood soon enough."

"In that case, Your Grace," John turned and started kissing at Anna's neck, leaving her giggling, "We'd best make up for lost time and get started on that brood."

Yorkshire, England – Present Day

All was quiet through the house as John approached the doorway. He raised his knuckles to knock but stopped when he saw Anna laying Michael in his cot. The boy twitched a moment, his balled fist striking randomly at the air as his leg kicked on reflex, and then settled.

John stepped back into the corridor as he caught Anna's eye through the doorway. She gave him a nod and worked her way, quietly, around the cot and left the room. When the door closed, the latch clicking ever-so-gently in the frame, John offered Anna a smile.

"He's going down well?"

"He's finally sleeping according to a schedule again." Anna sighed, her voice in a whisper to match John's. "It'll be nice to try and get things done in the time he's down again instead of always delaying everything because I'm afraid he'll wake back up and catch me off-guard."

"Then he's adjusting better than I am." John bit at his lip, shuffling in place a moment before he met Anna's eyes. "How are you?"

Anna opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and then pointed toward the dining room before speaking. "I think we should talk somewhere else."

They walked to the dining room together, taking seats at the end of the table. The chairs creaked slightly under them but all else in the house was quiet. For a moment neither of them spoke and then they tried to speak at the same time.

"How are you-"

"I think we-"

They laughed and Anna opened her hand toward John. "You first."

John swallowed, "I wanted to know how you're doing. In general, I mean. I know it's been a bit of a circus here while they took stock of it all, and did their crime scene… thing, and put us in the hotel and… And it all." He swallowed again after the lame finish. "But now that we're back here… I mean, do you want to be back here?"

"Honestly?" Anna took a breath, pushing her palms against her knees and grinding them slightly into her jeans. "Yes. This place is more like home than anywhere else. Even with all that happened."

"Really?"

Anna nodded, "Before it was just Michael and I in a London flat. It was fine but… But that wasn't home. It was a place to live and we would've outgrown it and then found another one and then…" Anna shook her head. "But here, even after everything that happened, it feels like home. This feels like somewhere we can belong and somewhere we can be safe."

"You weren't too safe when Vera showed up here."

"You kept us safe, John." Anna reached out and covered John's hand. "And I won't have you thinking differently."

"But she-"

Anna's finger landed on John's lips, keeping him silent. She waited until his eyes met hers. "She did come here but that wasn't on you. You made sure she didn't get to me. You made sure she didn't get to Michael. You made sure she couldn't get to any of us anymore. You kept us safe John."

When Anna's finger withdrew John only nodded. "I… I did. I just…" John shook his head, trying to sort out his thoughts. "I wish I'd done more. That it didn't have to come to what it did. That I could've kept her away."

"You did your best and that was enough."

"I don't agree."

"John," Anna's tone had John raising his head to look at her. "No matter what you think, I don't regret any of it. Maybe I should but I don't. And, despite what you may think, I would do it all over again if it meant that you would be there with me."

Her fingers squeezed his hand. "You are what made all of this suffering worth it. And you may not believe that. I know you think you failed me but you didn't. I'm still alive because of you. I'm here because you made sure I was. Michael is here because you protected us. And I…. I don't regret anything that put me in a position to be in your hands because I'm safe there."

John could not speak so he only nodded and squeezed Anna's hand in return. They sat in silence a moment while John gathered his thoughts, sniffed, and wiped at the threat of tears in his eyes. After another moment, and another wipe at his eyes to clear them of tears, John swallowed and cleared his throat.

"In that case, I need to show you something." John stood and Anna matched him. "If you want to see it, that is."

"Of course."

Anna followed him down the corridor and John pushed open the door to his room and stepped to the side to leave the view open. He shuffled in place, rubbing his hands against his trousers as Anna stepped into the doorway. A moment later he opened his mouth to speak but her voice came first.

"It's gorgeous John."

"It's just a bed."

"No." Anna shook her head and turned to John. "It's more than 'just a bed'. It's… this is a huge step John."

"It's… It is." John nodded and swallowed hard before he continued. "I was… I'm hoping it's the first of a lot of steps. And one of those steps is… I want…"

He stopped himself, gave a little laugh. "I'm a little hopeless at his but I want to ask you," John raised his head to look at Anna. "I want to ask you to stay. For you and Michael to stay here. To live with me in this too-large house to bring some life to it. To stay with me."

Anna smiled and took one of John's hands in both of hers. Her lips traced his fingers before she kissed them. "Of course we'll stay."

"Thank you." John let out a sigh. "Because I… I want you both to stay. I want you to stay before I love having you here. I love being with you and I… I think. No, I know that I… I…"

John risked a step closer to Anna and took her hands with both of his. "I love you, Anna. And if anything that's happened has taught me a single thing it's that I can't stand the thought of losing you. Whether it be because I'm a fool or because the world conspires against us, I don't want to lose you." He forced a breath into his lungs. "I regret a lot of what's happened between us but I don't regret that it was us. That I met you. That I could have any part in helping you. That I could be here for you. And I want to be there for you forever."

"I want you there too."

"Good." John let out all of his breath in a sigh of relief. "That's… I… Good."

Anna leaned forward, "And, for the record, I love you too."

John's grin almost split his face in two. All he could do to try and express the inexpressible of his emotions was to kiss Anna. With their fingers intertwining between them, and John leaning over to compensate for the difference in their heights, John pressed his lips to Anna's.

After a moment he drew back and risked a devious grin. "Then there's something else I want to ask you."

"And what would that be?" Anna returned his conspiratorial whisper.

"Do you want to help me break in my new bed?"

Anna's eyes returned John's leering glint. "I'd be upset if I couldn't."

"Then let's." John spun Anna toward the bed. "You and I will do a good job of it I'm sure."

"However, whatever, whenever." Anna went up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss from John before tugging him after her onto the bed. "But, for now, it's here and with you just like this."

"I can agree to that."

And John kissed her again.