A/N: I think people were expecting this to go a different way, but hopefully it won't disappoint. :)

There's fluff ahead. Who doesn't love fluff? And sex. I guess it pushes the T boundaries a fair bit, but I don't think it's bad enough to warrant being bumped up to M. Although that is coming from the person who was reared on hentai from a shockingly young age. Heh. Anyway, if you're not too fond of that, skip the second to last section.

2. 1921

"Anna, if you don't stop flannelling, you're going to break something."

Anna almost dropped the vase she was holding in trembling fingers and turned towards the woman who had gently admonished her. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Hughes, but I can't help it."

Mrs. Hughes smiled understandingly at her, moving closer to take the vase away before any real damage could be done. "I know you can't, my girl. But Mr. Bates will be here soon. If you over-excite yourself now, you'll miss his homecoming."

The housekeeper's tender warning did nothing to stop the adrenaline from pumping energetically through Anna's veins. Still, she dipped her head to hide the broad grin which was threatening to overtake her entire face.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," she intoned, knowing that the older woman could read through the attempted neutrality in her voice as well as she could sniff out below-standard behaviour in her younger charges.

Mrs. Hughes simply smiled, knowing it was pointless to admonish the head housemaid and settled instead for patting her gently on the back and leaving her to her excitement in peace. It was good to see the young woman with a smile on her face again – an actual real one, not one of the false ones she usually plastered on her features for the sake of pretending that her spirits weren't at rock bottom – and she herself was full of relief that the whole nasty chapter could finally be put to rest. Mr. Bates was a good man, and it was high time that he and Anna found some of the happiness that they both deserved.

Anna spent the rest of the morning haphazardly finishing her duties. They weren't completed to the standard she usually strived for, but she couldn't bring herself to care today. Not when, after two years behind bars away from her, her husband was to be finally let out.

It had taken them a long time to get to this point. An agonising time of waiting and hoping, of diving into whatever she could in order to aid Mr. Murray, Mr. Matthew and Lord Grantham solve the mystery of Vera's death. And now they had finally done it, and John would be free.

Free and about to arrive home at any moment.

When she had heard that John was to be emancipated, after all this time, she'd cried tears of joy. On her last visit to him before his release date, he'd seemed to have a new lease of life. Hope had glowed in his eyes, and he had spoken more than she'd ever known him to before. He had been sitting straight and tall, as though his burdens had finally been banished from his life. It had made her heart swell in her chest to see him so animated. Perhaps it was a sign that they could finally live the life they had longed for.

"Anna?"

Anna's head snapped up at once. Mrs. Hughes was back. The housekeeper was grinning widely. Anna thought she detected a shimmering in her eyes.

"Mr. Carson's just received word that they left the station a while ago. He'll be home any minute now."

Home. He'd be home.

Without a second thought, she darted out of the drawing room, passed Mrs. Hughes, ignoring the older woman's cry of surprise as she almost knocked her flying, clattering across the hall towards the front door. At the noise, heads popped out of several rooms, curious maids and hall boys watching Anna's progress towards the front. Somewhere in the background she could Mrs. Hughes calling after her, but it paled into insignificance with the pounding of her blood in her ears.

And then she was outdoors. To her surprise, Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Lady Grantham were standing outside the door along with the rest of the most notable staff, watching as the motor drew up outside the abbey, and Anna's heart lurched with excitement. She hadn't been expecting them to arrive so soon. Lady Mary turned to give her a wide smile. Anna returned it, stopping short as Carson glanced at her with affection before stepping forward to open the door for Lord Grantham, who had insisted on accompanying the chauffer to the station to pick up his old friend. Anna was acutely aware of a presence behind her, but she daren't take her eyes off the motor, fearful that it would disappear; Mrs. Hughes sighed in affectionate exasperation, brushing her fingers over the maid's shoulders tenderly in support. Anna barely felt it.

Lord Grantham stepped out then, practically beaming. His eyes met Anna's for a second and he inclined his head toward her before moving in line towards his family, turning to watch his old comrade's return to Downton.

Anna's mouth had gone dry, and she swallowed hard. Tears of joy were filling up her eyes and she blinked them away rapidly, determined to not let anything mar the first view of her husband as a free man. The front of the motor finally opened. Her heart leapt.

His feet appeared first. His shoes, once shined to perfection, were now scuffed. His trousers were rumpled as though they'd been left to rot in a ball for the last two years. The time he had spent in prison had obviously dishevelled him. Anna didn't care. She was just thankful that he was safe.

The rest of him finally emerged from the motor, and her breathing stopped. His face was thin, much thinner than she'd ever seen it, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept in all those months of his imprisonment. The sunny daylight of Downton threw up the imperfections that prison had wreaked upon him in a much harsher way compared to the dull grey light of hopelessness that prison offered them. He took his first faltering steps towards her. They were heavy and stilted. Although his cane had been returned, his limp was still much worse than it ever had been. He seemed to be relying heavily on it for support. His clothes were rather ill-fitting, not quite suiting his frame now that he'd lost weight. None of that mattered, not in the slightest. His eyes met hers, and the broadest grin she'd ever seen broke out across his face. In that split second, he was transformed.

Before anyone could speak, she'd taken her own first steps towards him. And then she was running, closing the short distance between them, uncaring of what the others would think of her behaviour. John barely had time to open his arms before she barrelled into his chest. Her forehead pressed urgently against him and she inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of shaving cream and aftershave and underlying sweat filling her senses. Her arms wrapped themselves around his middle, bringing them closer together. One of his hands snaked up to press her head more firmly against his chest whilst the other found her waist, just above the point of impropriety. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds – John had not lost the sense of the eyes of the house upon them – but to Anna it might have been hours. This was how it was supposed to be. The tears of happiness that had been threatening to fall since the car pulled up finally began to plummet, and she buried herself more firmly in his chest. He had no idea how good it felt for her to be in his arms again. She'd been without his embrace for far too long now, and the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her body was enough to have fresh tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

John tenderly disentangled himself from his young wife's grasp, still smiling widely. She reciprocated the action with a laugh, reaching up to brush her tears away. He stopped her motion by catching her hand with his, using the other to complete the task she had been about to do herself. She closed her eyes at the sensation of his calloused fingers on her face, relishing his reverent touch.

"Hush," he said softly, exploring the path of her face. "Don't cry, Anna. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, losing the ability to keep her emotions in check at the sound of his soft burr.

And then the spell was broken as Lord Grantham stepped forward to formally welcome John home. Anna pulled away and stepped to his side so that everyone could see him properly, bringing a hand up to wipe away the last vestiges of her tears, and then she laced the fingers of her right hand with his left firmly, vowing silently that she was not going to let go of him until she absolutely had to. His fingers squeezed hers reassuringly as Lord Grantham clapped him heartily on the back and led them forward to be greeted by the rest of the house. John inclined his head respectfully towards Lady Grantham and the two young women and they smiled at him, reaching out to shake his hand as Anna grasped his cane to allow him to reciprocate the action. Lady Mary in particular lingered in his grasp, warmth glowing in her eyes, glad to see Anna, her friend despite class differences, looking so overjoyed once again after the trials and tribulations the last two years had brought to her, especially since they were down to her in part. It was also good to see Bates looking so well. He had always been a man who kept his emotions in check with a rigid stoicism, but there was no masking the sheer euphoria in his countenance today. Mary was pleased about that.

Carson was next in line, and he grasped John's hand firmly, his lips twitching in what John assumed was a smile. He grinned back as the butler's free hand came up to pat him on the shoulder. Mrs. Hughes followed, eyes suspiciously watery, clasping his hand between both of hers, murmuring that it was good to have him home in a voice that wavered.

"It's good to be home," John replied, feeling Anna squeeze his fingers. "Better than you can possibly imagine."

And then he was face-to-face with Thomas. The youth eyed him for a moment and, feeling cautious, John extended his hand. After a moment's hesitation, Thomas took it. No words were exchanged, but a silent understanding passed between them. They would never be friends, but for the moment they were at peace. The same ritual passed with Miss O'Brien.

Finally, John reached the end of the line, amid well wishes and even the odd tear. Anna had not loosened her grip once and she was beaming so widely that it was a wonder that her face didn't split. Tears were shining in her eyes once more. Lord Grantham stepped forward again then, declaring that after dinner the entire staff were to have the evening off in order to celebrate Bates' homecoming. There would also be another servants' ball to take place upstairs the following evening, allowing both family and staff to welcome him home properly. John opened his mouth to protest, hating the thought of being centre of attention, but Anna's radiant face, a sight so beautiful that it had to have been carved by angels, stopped him. The celebration would be as much about the start of the future for him and for Anna as it would be about his freedom, and if the celebrations would make her happy, then he would gladly bear them.

"Thomas will continue his duties for the next two days until you've had the chance to settle back in," Lord Grantham told him as the servants were dismissed back to their posts and the ladies disappeared inside. "You'll resume them after that. We've discussed the matter between us and he's happy to take the position of Mr. Matthew's valet while he stays here now that Mr. Molesley's left to look after his father. Anna, you take these two days off too. The two of you should spend some time together."

"That's kind, milord," she replied.

"My lord, I don't know how to thank you –" John started, but Lord Grantham stopped him there.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Bates. God knows I owe you a great deal."

John paused, unsure of how to continue, and Lord Grantham took that as his cue to leave the valet and the housemaid alone. Anna began to tug him away from the front entrance, towards the grounds.

"Where are you taking me?" he chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips as she led him away. "We're going to be missed, you know."

Anna's eyes were dancing with mischief. "No, we're not. We've both been given two days' leave and I fully intend to have you to myself for a while."

"What, you don't want to share me with Mrs. Hughes?" said John in mock disappointment, and she stopped his smirk with her mouth – their first kiss since that awful day when she'd thought she was saying goodbye to him for the last time and he'd asked to take a taste of her to the gallows. She sighed in pure contentment, melting into his embrace as he held her tightly against him, his tongue brushing against her bottom lip to coax her to open up to him. She obliged willingly, digging her fingernails into his shoulders as she rose up on her tiptoes to even the height difference between them once again. His tongue met hers, and a shiver of longing set her nerves alight as his hands began to gently rub at her sides. She broke away from him then with a whimper, panting harshly as she slid her hands to his waistcoat, determined to rid him of the troublesome material so that she could finally get her hands on the expanse of skin that was just tantalisingly out of her reach. However, before she had accomplished more than a couple of hastily opened buttons, he gently stilled her movements.

"Anna…" he murmured, and his voice was hoarse. "We can't."

"Why not?" she panted in reply, reaching up to press her lips against his cheek.

He swallowed hard, clearly roused by the way her body was moving against him. "Because I want it to be special for you."

"It will be," she promised, fingers trailing perilously low.

It took every ounce of willpower to stifle the groan he could feel bubbling in his throat. "No, I don't want it to be a hurried fumble in the gardens like it's some sordid affair. We're married. We have nothing to be ashamed of. I want us to be able to take our time without the confines of propriety and everyone watching us."

His words struck home, and her hands stilled. When she looked up at him, her face was flushed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "You're right."

He bent down, kissed her sweetly. "Never apologise to me. Especially not for that. It's not that I don't want to. I do. But I don't want to rush it."

Anna took her time in redoing the buttons she'd unfastened, studying the pattern on his waistcoat rather than face her husband's gaze. "We should be getting back. People will start to wonder where we are."

John nodded in agreement, lacing his fingers through hers. Anna had been right before; no one would be wondering where they were, of course. After such a lengthy separation they were entitled to their time alone. But it eased the tension between them. They began to walk back towards the house together. Before they reached the servants' entrance, however, he stopped them. Casting a surreptitious glance around to make sure that they were completely alone, he bent in to her, his lips brushing her ear enticingly, eager to cheer her up. "Let's see if we can escape together tonight."
She pulled away when she felt his teeth grazing her earlobe. Her knees were on the verge of collapsing again. "Escaping together? What happened to not wanting it to seem like a sordid affair, Mr. Bates? And how do you know that the staff aren't organising a room for us right this very moment?"

"Well," he said, "I'm not sure how comfortable either of us would be, knowing that the entire staff would know what we'd be doing in there."

That was certainly something to give pause. Anna could already see Thomas and O'Brien sharing smirks. She certainly didn't want to be making love to her husband with half of her mind balking at the thought of everyone knowing their business.

"All right, then," she said decisively. "We'll sneak off together later on when they think we've gone to our own rooms. His lordship has been sorting out a cottage for us anyway. It should be done by the weekend. We'll just tell them that we're happy to use our own rooms while we're living at the house. But Mr. Bates, I didn't think you'd be willing to break social rules so soon after coming out of prison. It's quite shocking."

His eyes crinkled as he grinned cheekily at her. It was an expression that she decided then and there that she adored. "I fear that prison has turned me into something of a rogue."

The idea of her Mr. Bates ever being a rogue was laughable, but she playfully indulged him, loving the easy chemistry that had developed between them. "Goodness me, and here I was thinking I'd married a perfect gentleman."

"I'm sorry to have proved a disappointment."

"Perhaps I'll grow accustomed to it," she replied, raising his hand and kissing his rough knuckles. "Perhaps your roguish nature will win me over later on tonight."

"Perhaps it will," he said, kissing her a final time before they stepped inside the servants' entrance to the sound of Mrs. Patmore's bellowing.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Relieved from her duties, Anna was able to spend the time sitting by her husband's side in the servants' hall, clasping his hand in hers and brushing against him whenever she could, reassuring herself that he really was real and not simply a figment of her imagination. They never stopped talking, sometimes intimate conversations about what the future would bring, other times animated discussions about trivial matters with the other members of staff who wandered in to chat between their chores. At one point Mrs. Hughes entered, announcing to Anna that Lady Mary needed to see her urgently, and when the housemaid returned twenty minutes later she was smiling broadly, her eyes dancing with the joys of secrecy.

Seeing that they were alone for a snatched moment, John lowered his voice. "What's got you smiling so much, love? Surely Lady Mary hasn't made you happier than your old husband has?"

She thought about teasing him, but decided she couldn't put herself through that. If she didn't share her news with him immediately, she was sure that she'd burst. So, after checking that they weren't going to be interrupted for the moment, she bent in so that her breath tickled his ear and slid her hand provocatively up his thigh. She revelled in his sharp intake of breath.

"It seems as though Lady Mary read our minds earlier," she whispered. "She's putting her best cunning skill to good use and lending us the room we used on our wedding night so that we can 'reacquaint ourselves' with each other again."

At her words, John's eyes widened. Emboldened by this and the promise of what was to come, Anna smirked at him, sliding her palm further between his legs. He had to bite his lip to stifle a groan.

"I hope you'll be able to put your roguish skills to the test," she continued, tracing lazy circles over the quickly emerging bulge in the front of his trousers. "They're something I'm so looking forward to having thrust upon me…"

"Anna?" The sound of Mrs. Hughes' thick Scottish brogue penetrating their safe little world had both Anna and John jumping guiltily and moving as far away from each other as possible.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes?" The head housemaid made a great show of fumbling for her cup of tea, hands trembling and heart pounding at how close they'd come to being caught unaware in a compromising position.

"Lady Mary again, I'm afraid," the older woman sighed, stepping into the servants' hall, much to the duo's alarm. "She's never going to change."

Anna deigned not to answer, feeling a blush stain her cheeks, knowing what Lady Mary probably wanted to discuss with her. John watched her leave, his own cheeks flushed pink. Mrs. Hughes took her usual place on his left, and he instinctively dragged his chair more firmly under the table, closing his eyes as he willed his body back under his control once again.

"Mr. Bates?" Mrs. Hughes' voice was full of concern as she noticed his expression. "Are you quite well? You look as though you might be running a temperature."

"I'm quite all right, thank you," he replied, just a tad too quickly. Mrs. Hughes raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject, knowing how stubborn the valet could be when something was bothering him, and instead began to discuss the cottage that the pair were going to move into at the end of the week. John answered as politely and interestedly as possible but he was distracted, thinking of miles of creamy skin and tumbling hair like spun gold and a soft bed that would envelope them both as they pressed against each other.

He sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have to get up any time soon.

The night drew upon them raucously, and amid the celebrations the pair announced that they were retiring for the night, rejecting rather tipsy offers of the use of one of the bedrooms not far from the attics and cringing at Mrs. Patmore's loud announcement that they'd better not try sneaking through the door to one another's bedrooms because the beds creaked and everyone would know. Quite how the drunk cook had come across this information was anyone's guess.

After escaping the party, they parted on the stairs with secret smiles. They spent the following time in their respective rooms, readying themselves for the night ahead of them, waiting for the rest of the staff to follow their lead now that the honours of the celebrations had departed, biding their time until the house finally fell blissfully silent.

When it had, they crept through the darkness to the room that they'd shared on their wedding night. Anna arrived before her husband and spent the time waiting for him lighting candles to cloak the room in an intimate half-darkness. She shivered in the cold – the nightgown that Lady Mary had lent her was certainly not built for warmth, but the maid did not want to spend too much time thinking about how it might have been used to entice Mr. Matthew – and studied herself in the mirror, admiring the way that the thin fabric flaunted her figure. Mr. Bates would be pleased.

When John finally arrived, he found his wife reclining on the bed with the neck of her nightgown hanging half down her shoulder and her gaze hot on him, eyes half-lidded with desire. He swallowed hard, dropping his things to the floor as though he'd forgotten their existence and slowly limping towards the bed. Anna sat up as he reached her, extending her arms towards him. He cupped her face reverently between his hands, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. Her breath quickened.

"Anna," he breathed, leaning in to steal a taste. He pulled back before she could deepen it, moving his lips to her cheek. "You're so beautiful."

She flushed with pleasure at his compliment, pulling him back with her onto the bed. He followed obediently, hunkering on all fours over her, relishing the feel of her against him.

Kisses hotter than fire were bestowed upon skin. Their night things were strewn across the floor in their haste to touch each other (Anna jokingly lamenting that she hadn't been able to wear the provocative nightgown longer – wearing it had consequently made her feel much more elegant, even if it did swamp her because she was a great deal shorter than Lady Mary was), and finally there was nothing stopping them from touching each other the way that they had been burning to all day.

The bed didn't creak, either.

They were both eager to finally be together as man and wife after such a painful separation, but John was determined not to rush it. Not this time. He was certain that at some point the heat and passion would drive them to fumble desperately with each other. Tonight was about drawing things out, rejoicing in each other's presence. There was no time to be shy, even if it was only the second time that they had been together like this. There was too much desire to reunite for those emotions to take the forefront.

And draw it out he did. His fingers sought out her shoulders while his lips teased the sensitive spot behind her ear, then trailed lower to give her breasts some much needed attention. His mouth soon followed, tasting her skin as he went. Her gasps were music to his ears and he felt himself reacting to her, his own groans of need rumbling in his throat. Her fingers threaded through his hair and pressed him more firmly against her, her body trembling with barely suppressed longing. When he came up, he kissed her firmly, open-mouthed, unashamed. Anna pressed her palm flat against his chest, loving the feel of the dark hairs beneath her fingers and the thud of his heartbeat against her fingertips, her tongue sliding underneath his as he gently took possession of her mouth. His fingers continued to slide down her body, brushing against her hips and coming to a rest at the top of her thighs. Then, with only the slightest of hesitations, he gently parted her legs, giving him better access to her. She watched, enraptured, as his fingers moved in, dipping lower. The sensations that overcame her made her whimper and clutch at his shoulders, trusting him to help her through the onslaught of emotions that she had not felt for two long years. John laid another kiss on her cheek before turning his attention fully to his mission. His fingers found a natural rhythm within her, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, seeking out the places which affected her the most by the increased intensity of her cries. She was wet and warm, and the combination made him quiver with desire as he pushed her towards her end. She clung to him through it all, fingernails digging into his skin and hips rising to meet his movements, begging him to please not stop.

He felt her end approaching, in the way that he could feel the muscles in her body tightening with tension, in the way that the rush of soaking heat enveloped him. He applied the last bit of pressure just so…and she was completely undone in his arms, crying out sharply and throwing her head back, her blonde hair tumbling messily down and a thin sheen of sweat delicately clothing her body. John held her close as she collapsed backwards, ignoring the growing urgency of needing his own fulfilment in favour of ensuring that Anna was comfortable, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she recuperated. At last she'd recovered her senses enough to turn to him, her own hand drifting lower. He sucked in a breath.

"I think it's time for me to partake in my wifely duties now," she said, and her voice was still thick and heavy with want. "Would you like that, Mr. Bates?"

He could only nod dumbly as her little fingers, quick and eager, took ahold of him and guided him down. His mind fuzzed pleasantly as he gave himself over to her completely, revelling in the most perfect union between man and wife that there was.

Afterwards, Anna lay with her head propped on John's chest, the rest of her body moulded bonelessly against his as she listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat in her ear. His left arm held her close to him, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her ribs.

"What's the matter?" she asked him, turning to press a kiss against the underside of his throat. "You look a million miles away. Come back to this bed right now, or I might have to try for divorce on grounds of neglect."

He chuckled at her teasing. The sound reverberated in his chest. She smiled. Every night from now on was going to be like this. She couldn't wait. But John still hadn't answered her, so she shifted so that she was hovering over him, raising her eyebrows quizzically. She recognised the look on his face. It was that defeated expression, the one he always wore when he was blaming himself for something. Usually something that wasn't his fault.

"Well?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment.

"I didn't get you an anniversary present," he replied wistfully at last. "I wanted to give you something that showed you how much you mean to me. I had it planned that I would visit Ripon before coming home to get you something to make up for the fact that I couldn't get you anything last year, but I didn't find the time before I came back here."

"That's what's worrying you?" she said, and her exasperated tone of voice made him meet her eye. "Now you're just being silly. Neither of us knew you'd be getting out so soon after our anniversary. But that was three weeks ago now. And, in case you haven't noticed, I didn't manage to get you anything, either. And are you cross about that?"

"Of course not!" he answered vehemently, reaching up to tuck a loose blonde strand behind her ear.

"Exactly," she said, satisfied that her point had been proven. "And neither am I. Having you home here with me is much more than I could ever want. That's all that matters to me."

She bent down to press her lips against his and he smiled, doubts put to rest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, basking in the feel of her bare skin pressed against his after such a long and painful absence. As his mouth left hers to tease at her throat, he felt her fingers slide into his hair, heard her gasp above him.

"Having you home is the best anniversary present of all."

A/N: Same policy as last time: the next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks' time.