A/N: So here it is . . . drum roll . . . the final chapter! I want to thank everyone for their patience—I can't believe it took me over two years to write this! I so appreciate everyone's encouragement and kind reviews. It truly has been a rewarding writing experience.

Enjoy!

Chapter 14:

THWACK!

The baseball bounced off her bedroom wall with a satisfying thump. As Anna lay on her bed, she caught it gracefully with one hand and threw it back at the wall even harder.

THWACK!

It felt good to make such a racket. With each thud, she shed some of the murky, throbbing stress that had enveloped her for the last two months . . . two incredibly long months.

THWACK!

Vice President of Historical Acquisitions, North American office

What a bloody impressive title. She had been waiting years for such a promotion, but now she didn't know if she had even earned it or if it was simply fate's next move.

Damn it!

THWACK!

This time Anna threw the ball with such force that a small chuck of drywall fell onto her bed. With an embarrassed grimace, she dropped the ball onto the floor and flopped back on her bed only to stare up at the ceiling she had become quite familiar with.

As her eyes traced an old watermark, her mind circled back to him.

Twelve miles. Alexandria to Dupont Circle. She would only be twelve miles away from him each and every day. Not long ago she would have been thrilled by the prospect and celebrated the luck of being located in the same area, but she knew better now. Such fate wasn't luck and it was only an attempt to force her hand yet again.

All she had wanted was some time alone to figure things out. To be sure her decisions were her own and in her best interest. Then, and only then, could she really determine if John had a place in her life. The first few weeks had been excruciatingly painful and lonely; Anna almost caved and called him more than once. Eventually the distance did help to clear her mind and allow her to begin to come to terms with what they had shared in the past and what they still might share. A burgeoning hope stirred that a life with John might be possible.

But everything changed yesterday. Her company's CEO called her into his office. He had been watching her progress up the ranks and was highly impressed with her work. Anna was quite flattered. She didn't even realize he knew her name. He then proceeded to ask if she would head up Concord's new American office which would specialize in historical properties. An absolute dream job. It would mean a healthy raise and the title of vice president.

And an office located in Alexandria, Virginia.

Twelve miles outside of D.C. Twelve miles from John.

Frustration bubbled up once again. Anna got up and began pacing. She worked her arse off at her job: traveling all over Europe, compiling report after report, researching esoteric building histories, regularly putting in 60 hour weeks. Now due to this bizarre predestination that surrounded her, she couldn't believe that she even merited the promotion. She hadn't earned it; she was merely the recipient. It was just another one of fate's ploys to put her in contact with John. Once again, Anna wasn't the one making decisions in her own life.

Anna bent over and picked up the baseball again.

Damn it all to hell. Why her? Why was her life the only one being dictated by this odd providence? The events and direction of John's life, growing up and ensuing adulthood, didn't seem affected in the slightest. She was the one that had the misfortune of getting tangled up with Mac when she had only met Vera twice in her previous existence. John had been the one married to her for Christ's sake! Shouldn't he had been the one who dealt with her the second time around? And now this job opportunity. His career wasn't being dragged into their inexplicable world. He wasn't tethered to their joined fate in the same way Anna was.

But what if he was . . .

She sat down at such an epiphany. She had expended so much time and energy dwelling on the fact that her marriage and subsequent rape had served as necessary components for this fated relationship with John that she hadn't even considered what he might have gone through to reach that same point.

Anna thought back to their first early morning meeting at Otopeni Airport. John had been flying home from his aid work in Afghanistan, a job that he had taken to cure his demons and starve off his addiction. What if all that he had seen and done as a SEAL had been destined to occur causing him to hook up with Robert's charity to allow him to be in that airport that very morning to meet her? Had John's most horrendous experience . . . witnessing his best friend gunned down . . . taking the life of children in misguided retribution . . . been part of some divine plan? An even more disturbing thought crossed her mind. John had told her that he largely joined the Navy to pay homage to his father who had been killed in the line of duty. What if his father's death was another example of an event that was meant to be?

She had ridiculed him when he had said those same words to her; that their relationship was meant to be. But what if being together was the sum result of all the most awful events of their lives?

She tossed the baseball from hand to hand as her mind continued to wander.

Meant to be.

And why exactly were they meant to be together?

Were they destined to be together because they had been torn apart in their previous lives? Was this a chance to reconnect and find the happiness that eluded them before? Did Anna simply love John because she had loved him before? Was it real or just latent feeling carried through time and place?

Anna squeezed her eyes shut and brought the ball to her chest. With each day, she remembered more and more of her earlier live. It wasn't always clear, often vague and foggy, yet she had a grasp of what it had been like. She remembered Downton, both upstairs and down, her duties, her friends, her foes, what she wore, where she slept, but more than anything else she remembered him. Mr. Bates. That's what she called him most often. Not John, but Mr. Bates. John was reserved for special times apart from everyone else.

Above all, Anna knew that she loved him then. It wasn't passing or a girlish flirtation. Her love for him was real. Had this love now carried over to the present? Did Anna only care for John now because she had loved him so a hundred years prior?

No! She slapped the ball harder from hand to hand. What she felt for John now was also genuine. He wasn't that same person . . . well, not really. Just as she wasn't Anna from long ago. Even though they had only known each other a matter months, they had shared so much in this live. Never had she been so brutally honest and emotionally naked as she was him. And all that he offered up to her about his service and addiction still tore at her heart. This was her John Bates and she loved the flawed man that he was. He was her man.

Then another thought flickered. What if meant to be . . . was for John and Anna's happiness to be fleeting? It hadn't ended well the first time around and there was no guarantee it would be any different now. She had been under the impression that all the terrible things she has endured in this life were designed so that in the end she was to find John . . . and happiness. But what if such happiness was never meant for them? What if their life together was meant to end in tragedy yet again-that they were somehow caught in an unending cycle of heartache, one they were condemned to repeat over and over?

If that was the case, perhaps Anna's only chance at happiness was to forsake it.

Was that even possible? Could she really turn her back on John knowing he breathed the same air and walked the same earth? She had loved him when she didn't even know him. Was it possible to shun that love for the rests of her life?

Anna laid back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling again. She tossed the ball into the air again. So many what-ifs, so many unknowns. She caught the ball in her palm and threw it right back up. She could feel with aching precision the familiar tentacles of stress creep up her back. Her neck muscles bunched involuntarily and her head began to throb in a steady rhythm. She caught the ball again, but clamped her eyes shut instead of throwing it up. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. This state of uncertainty was driving her mad.

The front door lock jangled and Anna heard a creak as the door was pushed open. She sat up instantly. An irrational fear of Mac raced through her body momentarily replacing the stress.

"Yoo-hoo! Anna!"

Anna groaned and flopped back on her bed and the ball went back in the air. What possessed her to give Lynnie a key? Ever since John left, she taken it upon herself to drop by and make sure Anna was doing all right. She knew her friend meant well, but Anna was bloody sick of her popping in. She wasn't all right, she might never be all right again, and she didn't need her friend smothering her with concern.

"Oh, here you are." Lynnie strolled into the bedroom and took two steps in before stopping abruptly. "Blimey! It's a disaster in here. Our room at uni wasn't this messy."

Anna rolled her eyes as her friend walked over to her nightstand. With a sour face, she picked up an empty ice cream carton and a banana peel. "Really, Anna . . . this is disgusting."

She ignored Lynnie and kept tossing the ball. Maybe if she didn't say anything she'd go away.

Instead, Lynnie found a the small waste basket and went around picking up cartons and containers, wrappers and cans. Anna cringed at evidence of her junk food binging. Some people's appetite fled with stress, but not hers. Over the past few weeks when she felt the all-too-familiar pang of loneliness and indecision she headed for the kitchen. While she hoped it wasn't noticeable, she had gained almost ten pounds since parting from John.

"So have you made your mind up yet?"

Anna really didn't want to discuss her plans or lack thereof with anyone. She had been blindsided by Lynnie when she came home on Friday and had made the mistake of telling her about the job offer.

A hand shot out above her and grabbed the baseball.

"Hey!" Anna sat up in protest.

"Did you even hear my question?"

"Yes," she sighed in aggravation and defeat. She knew Lynnie wouldn't leave without an answer. "I heard you."

Lynnie balanced the ball in her palm. "And . . . what have you decided?"

"Nothing. I just can't . . . If only . . . "

"Only what?"

"If only I could change who I am . . . who I was."

As confusion crinkled her friend's face, Anna instantly regretted her words. What was she doing? She couldn't discuss her dilemma with Lynnie. She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't believe her for that matter. She would think she was crazy. Maybe she was.

"Are you talking about your life with Mac?"

"I wish I had never met him." In this life or the last. "He ruined so much."

Lynnie sat down on the bed next to her and took hold of Anna's hand pulling her up.

"Anna, listen to me. Mac's dead. Don't let his shadow follow you. I mean it, you can change your life if you want to. Sometimes you have to be hard on yourself, but you can change it completely. You can be in charge."

"Wise words," murmured Anna. She had heard them before.

"Wise words, indeed. But ones you don't believe?"

"I'm just not sure if I'll ever be the one calling the shots in my life."

"I don't understand. Do you really think John would attempt to control you like Mac?"

"No, of course not, it's just . . ."

Lynnie squeezed her hand. "It's just what? Come on, you can tell me. I'm your best friend."

Anna attempted to smile at her. Lynnie had always been there for her. Truest of friends. Both at Downton and now. More sister than friend. She wished she could tell her everything . . . or at least something.

"Is it really my choice or am I simply being pulled along by the current? What if it ends badly? I don't think I could take it again."

"Oh, Anna. Even if things soured between you and John, it would never be like it was with you and Mac."

That she knew. She wasn't worried about John treating her like Mac. It was the thought of losing him that scared her to death. Once with him, she would rather die than be parted again. It would be easier to walk away now and cut the heartache at its knees.

"You never know what the future holds," sighed Anna.

"That's true enough, but answer some questions for me . . . And I want you to answer these as fast as you can before you have even a second to ponder. I want an answer right from your gut."

"All right," Anna shrugged.

"What month were you born?"

Anna's face screwed up. "What . . ."

"Just answer the question . . . What month were you born in?"

"September, but I don't see what this has to do . . ."

"What's your favorite ice cream?"

Anna couldn't help chuckling. "Lynnie! Really, what . . ."

"I'm building a baseline, making you comfortable with the truth. Come on now, answer!" Lynnie prodded. "What's your favorite ice cream?"

Anna gave up and decided to play along. "Okay, butter pecan."

"What's your middle name?" Lynnie fired right back at her.

"Mae."

"Quick now, what's your favorite color?"

Just as fast Anna answered, "Blue."

"Favorite pub?"

"The Duke of York."

"Do you love John?"

She didn't blink. "Yes."

Do you want to want to be a vice president?

"Yes."

Are willing to move the US and be only miles from John?"

No hesitation. "Yes."

"Let me ask again. Do you love John?"

Tears were welling up. Anna wasn't sure how she had gotten so emotional, so fast. But Christ, it was all there.

She could only whisper, "Yes, I love him. I love him so much."

One tear trickled down her face.

"Do you want to spend your life with him?"

Another tear raced down the other side of her face. "More than anything."

Lynnie squeezed both her hands. "Well, there you go. You just have to be honest with yourself. Oh wait, one more. Who's your best mate?"

Anna huffed a laugh through her tears. "The crazy redhead sitting next to me."

Her friend smiled broadly back at her. "Ain't that the truth. Trust me Anna, go with your gut."

"I'm not sure it's that easy."

"Sure it is. Look Anna, you say you want to be the one calling the shots, controlling your future, but you cede over that right when you make choices that run contrary to your happiness."

Anna closed her eyes, squeezing out remaining tears. "I don't know . . ."

"Hear me out . . . You love John. You have an amazing career opportunity right near him. You said yourself you want to spend the rest of your life with him. These are things in life that will undoubtedly make you happy. Don't let yourself be boxed out from such a life because of some amorphous fear of the future. In the end, you would still not be in control because you let everything you longed for slip away."

She opened her eyes and met her friend's eyes. Eyes that were also conspicuously wet.

"Anna, you've earned the right to be happy."

"I have, haven't I?" Anna gave her friend a shaky smile before pulling her in for a tight hug. "I really have."

After a moment, Lynnie pulled back. "I take it then, I should find some moving boxes."

Anna nodded, too overwhelmed by her decision to speak.

Lynnie got up and held out a hand to Anna. "But first, why don't you come over and we order some take away. The new version of Persuasion is on ITV 2 tonight."

Wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve, Anna took her hand. "I'd like that, but you do know the older version is far superior."

"But Captain Wentworth is much hotter in this one."

Anna laughed as she followed her friend out of her room. God, she was going to miss her. But Lynnie was right; she did warrant happiness no matter what came of it. And she knew she would never be happy without John.

John reclined and stretched his legs out as best he could in the plastic lawn chair. He was dog-tired. He had been on his feet all day registering hundreds of students. But it was a good tired, one that made him forget everything else. And it was only when he could put it all aside that he could function at a somewhat normal capacity.

Normal. John wasn't even sure what normal meant for him anymore. He wasn't the same man. He was more than himself now; he had lived two lives. But one thing was for sure he wasn't a whole man either.

He would never be whole without her.

"I say, things went exceedingly well today, wouldn't you agree?" Came a voice from behind him.

Robert joined him on the rooftop patio of the two story building that housed A Mother's Dream. The ground floor served as their offices with the floor above as lodging. They had just finished dinner with their small in-house staff. John had escaped with a cup of black coffee to watch the sun set over the Koh-i-Baba Mountains. For once, all was quiet in the streets below. It was a hot evening, but every once and awhile a breeze would float off the nearby Arghandab River. He was truly surrounded by beauty. Too bad mankind seemed bent on destroying it.

"Over two hundred students set to start next week, I'd call that a success."

Robert nodded in agreement as he pulled up a patio chair across from John. "Our biggest enrollment to date. You did an excellent job pulling in kids."

John had worked long hours, longer hours than he ever had before, visiting homes and encouraging families to allow their children, especially their daughters, to sign up for their school. He was usually out the door by sunrise and not back until dinner time. It felt good to walk the dusty streets and speak to folks in another language. It allowed him to disengage from the turmoil of his own life.

Even as he stared at the pinkish hues of the early evening sky, a pang of loneliness washed over him. He had been without her his whole life, or at least the only one he had known up until a few months ago, but now he didn't know how would be able to continue without her. He was existing, not living.

The gulping of liquid being poured from a bottle caught John's ear.

"Jesus, Robert. Where did you get that from?"

His friend gleefully chuckled, "Snuck it in a box of calculators."

John grinned as Robert brought the whiskey to his lips. "Taking a risk, aren't you? Last I heard it's sixty lashes if they catch you with it."

"Well, I guess I'll have to drink the whole bloody bottle tonight! Sometimes you got to walk on the wild side."

John shook his head and took another sip from his mug.

"Oh, you and your coffee," Robert teased before offering him the bottle. "Are you sure you don't want a glass because you like shit?"

John didn't say anything. He knew behind his friend's jesting words there was real concern. It had been two months since he showed up in Kandahar, unannounced and obviously a mess. Robert hadn't asked any questions, just put him to work which was exactly what John needed. He could see that his friend wanted to ask more, but was too much of a gentleman to press him. John wanted to tell him everything: about Anna, Vera, Downton, what happened in London, what he had discovered. He wished he could explain to Robert that in another life they had been comrades-in-arms. But how could he? No, it was his cross to bear . . . alone.

"I mean it, you look ghastly. You must have lost a stone." Robert sobered, "Are you sick?"

He could understand why Robert thought that. He had lost weight; so much that he had his belt on the tightest notch just to keep his pants up. It wasn't that he was starving himself, but his appetite had disappeared since arriving. He frequently skipped breakfast opting for only a cup of coffee before heading out. His meals while recruiting students were meager and by the time he got back to headquarters all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Dinner often consisted of no more than coffee and a piece of naan. It was no wonder his clothes were ready to fall off.

"No, I'm not sick."

Robert swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "Not all illness takes a physical form."

John sighed. "You're talking to a former addict; I know something about that."

"I was talking about heartache and I know something about that."

And Robert did. It was shortly after John was hired at A Mother's Dream that Cora was killed in a car accident. Her car had hit a patch of black ice and slammed into a telephone pole. Robert had been devastated. He sought refuge in their operations abroad leaving John to handle the office in the states. The tragedy had forced John to put the needs of others before his own. Truth be told, it had been a blessing in disguise. He had new found responsibility to focus on and he was damned determined not to let Robert down when he needed him most.

"Have you heard from her?"

"Who?" John feigned ignorance even though he was a terrible liar.

"Don't play stupid," Robert countered. "You know who."

Giving up, John shook his head. "She wanted time to think things through."

"Well, given what happened with her ex, I don't blame her."

John had given Robert a barebones account of what happened with Mac in case authorities called needing further testimony from him. He didn't want Robert blindsided, but there was no way he could tell him the whole story . . . hell, not even a quarter of it. He was alone in his knowledge of all that occurred in this life and what he had witnessed over a century prior. Alone except for Anna.

"She deserves to make her own choices and I will abide by whatever she decides."

Robert took a long swig emptying his glass. "That's very noble of you, John . . . But I've got so say, also very stupid."

"What?" Coffee sloshed out of John's mug in his surprise.

"You're a stupid fool of the first order," Robert chastised him. "You obviously love this woman. Enough to chase her around the world, take a vacation for the first time in years and make you to look like you just came out of Auschwitz."

John closed his eyes and shook his head at his friend's choice of words. One thing was for sure, tact had never been one of Robert's strong suits. Not in this life or the last.

Robert continued on, "Love is a two-way street. You can't completely yield the right-of-way to her. It's completely honorable to give her time to come to terms with whatever concerns her, but it's been two months. You have a right to know where you stand."

"But I don't want to push her further away."

"If she loves you, she won't allow it."

"That's easy to say, but . . ." Robert didn't know the complicated nature of their relationship. John didn't doubt that Anna loved him. His fear was her love for him would be overshadowed by uncertainties. That her longing to dictate her future might lead her to sacrifice anything that chains her to the past . . . including John.

"Take it from someone who experienced the love of a lifetime, albeit a short one, if it's real she won't run from it."

Love of a lifetime. His brain picked apart the meaning. John turned to his friend and asked him something he had been wanting to ask since arriving in country.

"Do you think you'll ever see Cora again?"

Robert huffed a surprised laugh. "Considering I haven't set foot in a church since our wedding, I highly doubt I will be welcomed at the pearly gates."

"No, I don't mean heaven. I was thinking more as in another life . . . or another time . . ." John snatched at his words.

"You mean reincarnation?" Robert looked even more taken aback. "Are you serious, John?"

Embarrassed John quickly mumbled, "Forget I asked. It was silly of me, really."

"No, no . . . It's a good question. I'd be lying if I said I never thought of seeing her again in an afterlife, but I suppose I did always envision some sort of heavenly setting. But reincarnation . . . hmm, I never really considered it."

"Robert, you don't have to . . ."

"It's okay . . . I like thinking about Cora. Helps me remember what we had together."

John had a brief flash. This was how it was for Anna after he was executed. Clinging to memories to keep their love alive when one half was gone.

Robert poured another glass before continuing, "Do I think it's there's a high likelihood that I will see Cora again—in this life or the next? No. But . . . but . . ."

"But what?"

His friend's voice cracked, "I would give the world to see her again even if for a moment."

John could feel his own throat closing with emotion. The longing in Robert's voice was palpable.

"The truth is if our paths ever did cross again and I was blessed to have her in my life again, one thing is for sure, I would never let her go."

It was as if Robert had been privy to John's predicament. Blessed to have her in my life again. Wasn't that what John was? His heart pounded harder. For certain he was blessed and he'd be an idiot to let it slip away.

"Plus, I always imagined we'd have kids," Robert continued unaware of John's epiphany. "A son would have been nice, but daughters that looked like Cora would have been divine."

"That they would have," John concurred. Robert didn't even realize the irony of his words to his former life.

"Well, enough of that." Robert shook off his sentimentality while downing the rest of his whiskey. "I've been thinking about your role at the organization."

John sat up. Robert was a big picture sort of guy. He along with Cora had thought up A Mother's Dream. He was also a people person. He truly enjoyed working with all the teachers and students their program served. But Robert was no organizer. He couldn't balance a budget or write a grant proposal to save his life. The daily grind of meetings and fundraising held no appeal. That Robert would even look to redefine John's role was surprising.

"You were hired to run our operations here in Kandahar, but I'm afraid I never gave you that chance. You've been good enough to let me take your place over here for which I am forever grateful."

"Robert, it's nothing . . ."

"Perhaps, but I mean it. I am thankful every day to be here. You see, everyone here . . . the students, their families, the teachers . . . well, they've become my surrogate family. They've helped me recover in a way I never thought possible and given me purpose in life."

Robert turned in the plastic chair to face John fully. "I guess what I am trying to say is, I'd like to stay on here in Kandahar indefinitely and for you to continue to head up things back in D.C. Would you be all right with that?"

"It's your organization, whatever you want. I am willing . . ."

"Yes, I know you're willing, ever the good soldier. What I want to be sure of is if it is truly okay with you. Look, you never told me and I never wanted to pry, but I know you had personal reasons for wanting to work here."

John bent over and scrubbed his face. The last thing he wanted to discuss with Robert was his initial reasons for taking the job and returning to Afghanistan. Mainly because John didn't have the same need to compensate for his mistakes as he did three years ago. It felt like three years and a lifetime ago. Anna had cleansed him of so much guilt. Yes, a raw ache still existed when he thought of Marco and the kids, but he could justify moving forward and continuing on with his life. Although the pain might never fully go away, it wasn't all-encompassing anymore and it seemed to lessen with each passing day. If John never saw Anna again, he would always be grateful for the support she provided in overcoming such a horrific experience.

"Things were different three years ago. Hell Robert, I was a different man. There was a lot I needed to come to terms with. It was more than just coming back to Afghanistan, it was facing my past.

"And have you . . . that is, come to terms with the past?"

John inwardly smirked to himself. Funny how the past could mean so many different things.

"I don't know if we ever can fully put to rest all that haunts us, but yes, I have made my peace."

"I'm glad to hear that, John. You deserve to be happy."

"I want to be happy," John spoke with a determination that had laid dormant for years.

Robert slapped his palms on his thighs. "Well then, if you have no reservations about heading back to D.C., I suggest you grab the first plane out of Kabul once we start up classes next week."

"Are you sure there's nothing else for me to do here?"

"Absolutely not, I've got it all under control. Also, I need you to get back to the office before Branson burns it to the ground. I swear that kid will be the death of me."

John chuckled at Robert's exasperation. "He's a fine worker and loyal to a fault."

"Maybe, but he's too radical for my taste. Did you see that he was quoted in a Rolling Stone article about the Occupy protests? He had the balls to send me the bloody link to the article. Is he mad? We could lose funding if the organization became associated with those inane protests."

"I'll talk with him." John sighed. "But don't worry, nobody is making any such connection."

Robert just harrumphed.

John stood up and picked up his coffee mug. "I'll look into flights tomorrow. Should be able to get a good price this time of year."

"John, if I may make a suggestion . . . Stop over in London for a few days. Like I said, you deserve to be happy."

John stared out into the black sky at mountains he could not see anymore. Blessed to have her in my life again. Yes, goddammit. He was blessed. He had to make her understand that they were meant to be in each other's lives. This life and the last.

It was time he returned to London.

She had waited a whole week.

Anna arrived a week ago and checked into same hotel she had stayed at during her previous trip to D.C. The only difference was she wouldn't be going back to London anytime soon. The capitol city was her new home.

All week she had itched to pick up the phone and call him, but held back. What she had to say could only be said face-to-face. Plus, she was nervous what his reaction would be to such a call. Anna wasn't sure he'd even want to meet with her. He had been ready to start a life together and she had abandoned him with no promise of even seeing her again. She carried with her the sad image of him silently leaving her flat that last night, shoulders slumped, crushed. John had every right to be upset and resentful. Even worse, he might have decided to move on with his life. She couldn't blame him if he had. He hadn't tried to call her or even Lynnie for that matter. True, she had explicitly told him to give her some time to figure things out, but still . . . Christ, why had she waited so long? She'd never forgive herself if she lost him now.

It was Saturday and she had all day to herself. No business to attend to, no staff to interview. Nothing to take her mind off him. She couldn't put it off any longer. Today was the day even if it ended with John rejecting her. As she walked the two blocks from the Metro stop to John's building, anxiety swelled with each step. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt. She could do this. She would just come out and say what her heart had been feeling forever. They deserved to be together no matter where, no matter what and nothing could part them. He'd understand. He had to.

Anna slowly walked up the stone steps to front door. She ran her fingers over the apartment buzzers until she found his name.

J. Bates, 1B

Her heart thumped hard in her chest at the thought of him within the building's walls. She held her breath as her index finger hovered over the 1B buzzer.

Just then a couple came out the entrance and held the door open for her to enter. She was swamped with relief. She wouldn't have to speak through an intercom. She would be able to face him in-person.

Anna scampered through the vestibule and within a seconds stood in front of John's door. She took a moment to smooth out any wrinkles that had formed on her skirt during the train ride. She wore a flowing, flowered skirt paired with a simple white peasant blouse. She wanted to look nice but didn't want her physical appearance to distract from the words she had to say. Closing her eyes and taking one last breath that doubled as a prayer, Anna curled her fingers into fist and knocked.

The door swung open.

"John! What you doing here?"

He looked past Lynnie's red head to a room that was filled with boxes and bubble wrap.

"Where's Anna?" He demanded as he barged by her. His anxiety climbing with each step he took in the almost-empty apartment.

Dear god, if he lost her now . . .

John turned and faced Lynnie who was closing the door.

"Tell me . . . please!"

His voice was desperate even to own ears. He had played many scenarios in his head during the flight to London. Anna would be happy to see him . . . or angry . . . or indifferent. She would turn him away because she needed more time or worse she never wanted to have anything to do with him again. But never in his imaginings did he envision that she simply wouldn't be there.

"She's moved away."

"Oh god," John moaned and leaned heavily upon a moving box.

"Stop! Lynnie rushed over and pulled him by the arm off the box. "That's breakable."

Without a place to sit, he wandered aimlessly around the room. His hands went into his hair. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't haven't lost her without even having a chance to set things right. He needed to see her one more time . . . just one more time . . . before he would allow her to shut the door on him . . . on them.

The more he paced, the more erratic his breathing. She was gone, really gone. She didn't want anything to do with him. The pain was sharp and searing. Never had he felt such loss. He crumpled against the wall, dead inside.

"John, it's not what you think. You don't understand?"

"I understand perfectly," he spat at Lynnie.

"No, you don't," Lynnie argued pulling him from the wall to face her. "She's in America."

"What?" he gasped.

"More specifically, she's in D.C."

"I don't understand."

Lynnie sighed in frustration. "She earned a promotion with Concord to head up their new office in the states which just happens to be located right outside D.C. She's a Vice President now."

"Why didn't she tell me? Give me a call or something?"

"Maybe for the same reason you're here without warning. She wanted to speak with you in-person."

John rubbed his tired, bleary eyes. "But does she honestly want to see me again?"

Lynnie laid a hand on his forearm. "Believe me, John. She does."

He wanted nothing more than to believe her. Yet with the moving boxes at his feet and the doubt in his veins, he felt anything but confident.

"Then tell me her address."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Lynnie's face. "I'm not sure it's my place to. Anna was very adamant that she wanted to handle things on her own."

"Look, I'm at the end of rope. I need to see her. We need to figure it all out. I don't think I could bear being in the same city and not knowing where she was, stuck waiting longer."

John closed his eyes. "I know, she needs time to come to terms with it all, I know that. But I am going mad each day I am away from her. Please, end this agony . . . tell me her address."

"A sorry lot, the both of you. How'd I get stuck in the middle?" Lynnie muttered to herself before sighing long and loud. "All right, all right. You win. I'll give you the address. The company has her put up at a hotel downtown for time being until she finds a place of her own. I'm to ship over the rest of her belongings once she's settled."

Lynnie took out her phone began typing. Within seconds, John felt a buzz in his pocket.

"There you go. I sent you the address of the hotel. Mind you, she arrived last week, but I haven't heard from her in a few days. It's possible she's found a flat."

Relief ricocheted through John. One plane ride home and he could be standing in front of her.

He started towards the door.

"Where are you going? It's after 10pm?"

"I'm going to catch a red-eye back to DC."

"John, stop. There is no sense catching a flight now only to arrive in DC in the middle of the night. Get a good night's sleep and grab a flight tomorrow. You want to look halfway decent when you see Anna, right?"

John waffled. She did have a point. He accomplished nothing by arriving before sunrise. He'd have to wait to a reasonable hour to see her anyway . . . or did he? Maybe Anna wouldn't mind him crashing her hotel room at sunrise. On second thought, waking Anna up at an ungodly early hour probably wasn't the best idea.

"Come on, you can sleep on my sofa." Lynnie grabbed his arm and led him towards the door. "We'll order a pizza and have some ice cream. Looks like you could use some fattening up."

His lips curled up in a half smile as his friend led him out of the empty flat.

Anna knocked again. For the tenth time. She strained to hear sounds inside: movement, footsteps, anything at all.

Nothing.

She had given him enough time. He wasn't asleep or taking a shower. Surely he would have heard her ten knocks that got increasingly louder with each pound. It was clear . . . John wasn't home.

She leaned her forehead against the sturdy oak door. This is not how she imagined her visit going. Not that it wasn't a reasonable possibility. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Why shouldn't John be out and about? He might have errands to run or maybe he was attending his support group. Or out with friends from work. But what if . . . he had met someone else? John had promised he'd always be there for her. She wanted to believe him, but doubt had a way of creeping into her confidence especially when faced with a closed door. Maybe she had waited too long and let the most precious part of her life slip by. Or was fate pulling rank over her future once again? Was she truly not meant to be with John . . . Would she never be allowed happiness?

A few tears began to skid down her face. And even though she had cried so many times, in this life and before, Anna succumbed to fear and despair. Unsteady breaths quickly became heaving pants as she began to hyperventilate. She just wanted to a normal life, one with good times and bad, and most certainly one with John at her side.

Doubling over, she slid down the door to sit on cold tile. She pulled her long skirt over her knees and buried her face in the silky material. She couldn't stop the tears nor did she have the energy to move. She sat in a pathetic lump.

A pitter-patter of little feet caught her attention and before she knew it something incredibly furry was nosing at her head.

"Woah, Misha! Come here, girl!"

Anna lifted her head and found herself inches away from a strikingly beautiful dog. She couldn't resist rubbing her wet cheek against the huskie's soft white fur.

A man trotted up behind the dog with a leash. He was young and handsome. Anna was sure she had met him before.

"I am so sorry. Misha has a mind of her own," he apologized pulling the dog back.

Anna scrambled to her feet, embarrassed. "No worries at all."

Misha pulled hard and jumped up against Anna with a friendly bark. The man looked chagrined and admitted with a smile, "Looks like it's time to sign her up for obedience class again . . . for the fourth time."

Despite her state, Anna smiled back. The man eyed her. He looked so familiar.

"Are you all right, miss?" Genuine concern on his face.

"Absolutely," Anna lied. "Just hoping to catch a friend."

"You're Anna." At her surprised look, he explained. "We met briefly at the office the last time you were in town. I work with John at A Mother's Dream."

"Oh, yes I remember. And your name is . . . Tom?"

Branson. Tom Branson. She now realized why he looked so familiar and it wasn't from meeting in the office that one time.

"Nobody's called me Tom since I was five years old and there were four Toms in my kindergarten class. I go by T.J."

"I believe John's spoke of you."

"No telling what he's told you," he laughed. "Truth is I drive him a bit crazy with my ideas."

Tom cocked his head. "Are you looking for John?"

"Yes, I am," Anna all but squeaked. Maybe Tom . . . no, T.J . . . would know where John was. "Do you know where he is or when he'll be home?"

"Well . . ." the man began clearly unsure if he should divulge his friend's whereabouts.

"Please tell me . . . I need to see him," she pleaded desperately.

"Well . . . you see, he's currently out of the country."

"Oh no," Anna breathed. "He's back over there."

"Afghanistan, you mean?" T.J. answered his own question with a nod.

It hadn't even crossed her mind that he might end up there after leaving her in London. If he was injured or worse . . . she'd never be able to live with herself. Why in god's name did she send him away?

"But he's due back any day now."

Anna grasped his arm. "You mean that? He's truly going to arrive home soon?"

"Yeah, they just finished up registering students. There's nothing left for him to do over there. Plus, I think Robert's getting nervous with me in charge of the office."

"Thank god," Anna slumped and released a long breath.

"Listen . . . you look you could use a friend right now. Do you want to come up for a cup of tea? I promise I don't bite and neither does Misha, but I am a good listener."

Normally, she would have rejected his offer immediately. Mac had left her with a distrust of men that she couldn't shake. Then again, she had let John stay with her hours after meeting him. T.J. did seem sincere and John had spoken of him fondly even if he did annoy him at times. Plus, she could really use a cup of tea right now.

"That's sounds brilliant. Thanks."

"Follow me," T.J. told her as the huskie took off towards the stairs. "Or more correctly, Misha"

T.J. lived one floor up from John, but unlike John's austere flat T.J.'s was cluttered. Everything about it screamed bachelor. Beer bottles and an empty pizza box covered the kitchen counter. Mail sprawled on the small dining room table. Tom ushered her to sit on a beat up flannel couch in the living room while he cleaned off the nearby coffee table of old newspapers and what looked to be a half-eaten bowl of cereal.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess around here."

"That's all right. Do you need any help?" Anna asked as T.J. headed to the adjoining kitchen.

"Nah, I've got it."

Misha jumped up on the couch startling Anna. This dog definitely needed some training, but she couldn't resist petting him as he rubbed his muzzle against her arm.

Anna scanned the room. It really was a jumble. Books and magazines were strewn all around. A video game console sat on the floor. An iPad was charging at an outlet by the window. But it was a poster on the wall that caught her eye.

"You're a supporter of Linfield?"

"Ah, you know football. Of course, I support Linfield. They're only the best team ever." T.J. answered from the other room.

"You mean after the Arsenal, don't you?"

"As if!" T.J. hooted as he carried two cups into the living room. "But it's nice to find another fan of the game. When I was a kid my grandfather would wake me up at the crack of dawn to go down to the pub with him so we could watch games live from Ireland. I guess he instilled me with a love of the game and . . ." Tom lifted his cup towards Anna. ". . . a love of tea."

"Both important to life," Anna agreed taking a sip.

They drank their tea in a friendly silence, but Anna could tell by the way T.J.'s foot tapped the floor he was the impatient sort.

"I don't mean to pry, but what's going on with you and John? One minute he was taking his first vacation in years, the next he ends up in Kandahar working."

At Anna's hesitation, Tom backed off. "I know it's none of my business, but John's a friend and I had never seen him as happy as he was before he left for London."

"No, it's all right. I'm glad he has friends that care. It's just that it's complicated."

"Relationships usually are."

Anna laughed without humor. "Ours more than most. You see, when John got to London, my ex resurfaced and caused some headaches. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. You wouldn't understand. But afterwards, I just needed time to think things through on my own."

"And you have?"

"Yes, I have . . . I think so. My fear is I hurt John tremendously by asking him to walk away and then I begin to doubt my choices . . . if they're even mine to make." Anna sighed. "It's all so mixed up."

T.J. laid his cup down in the saucer. "Fell free to tell me to butt out, but if I can give you a little advice . . . In the end, it comes down to whether or not you love him. That's all. That's it. The rest is detail."

Anna stared into her tea as she weighed his words.

"On the other hand, I probably shouldn't be dispensing relationship advice given my so-called girlfriend won't even introduce me to her family."

"No, it's a beautiful sentiment, really. I just wish it was that easy."

"Maybe it is. I have an idea . . ."

John slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and exited the Dupont Circle Metro station. Disappointment clung to each step he took. He had made it on an early afternoon flight out of London and arrived in DC around the same time. Normally, he would have called T.J. to pick him up at Dulles, but he didn't want to explain to his friend why he was headed to a downtown hotel instead of home. After an incredibly long bus ride, followed by a short trip on an extremely packed Metro train, he arrived at the hotel Anna was supposedly staying at only to have the concierge inform him that she had checked out the previous night. John rung Lynnie immediately, but she hadn't heard from Anna either. He was at a dead end.

John paused to stretch once he got out on the sidewalk. His side was killing him after the plane, train and bus. All he wanted to do now was lay down.

No, that wasn't true. He wanted to see Anna more than anything else.

He would call her office in the morning. Maybe he might get lucky and be able to learn the location of the Alexandria office and go check it out. At this point, he'd do anything to find her even if it meant stalking Anna at work.

As he began the two blocks home, his phone rung. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down at the number. His sister. No way was he in the mood to talk with her. He dropped the phone back in his pants.

Within a half-minute, his phone buzzed alerting him to a text. Hell, Susan. Give me a break. With a long suffering sigh, he pulled the phone out again.

What the hell is going on w/u & Anna? She just asked what ur fav meal is? Are u in London? I thought u were coming home?

John bobbled the phone almost dropping it on the pavement. His hands were shaking as he returned Susan's missed call. His sister answered on the first ring.

"Well, that was quick."

"You talked with Anna? Today? What did she want? What did she say?" John asked in a nervous rush.

"Whoa, hold your horses! No, I didn't speak with Anna."

Disappointment warred with anxiety. "But you texted . . ."

"I wrote you she had asked me what your favorite meal was and she did ask that . . . in a Facebook message." John let out the breath he had been holding. Susan had heard from Anna after all.

"To be honest with you John, it's all a bit weird, that's why I called. In her message, she apologized in case I was mad at her for hurting you and hoped we could still be friends. Then she went on to ask what your favorite meal was."

"What did you say?"

"For favorite meal, you mean?"

John ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "No, to her apology."

"Well, I didn't know what to say since you've kept me in the dark about what's going on between the two of you." There was obvious hurt in his sister's voice.

"It's complicated, sis."

"I bet. All I know is you hightailed it out of London when you were supposed to be on vacation to spend another couple months in a war zone. Let me tell you, mom was not thrilled by that decision."

"I know, sorry. I just had to get away."

Susan voice grew softer. "So have you patched things up? I see now that Anna's location is in D.C."

"Not yet, but I'm going to. I'm not letting her get away."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. It's about time you lived for yourself and your future.

"I just hope she wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think she does. I mean, she's cooking your favorite meal of blood soup and sauerkraut."

"What?! Susan, you didn't. . ."

"Oh, simmer down, I'm kidding. I told her chicken cordon bleu."

John rolled his eyes at his sister from halfway across the country. "Ha-ha. You know, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"That's what big sisters are for."

John sobered. "I love you, Susan. I'm glad you called."

"And I love you, too. Promise to keep me in the loop. Scout, I'm always here if you need someone to talk to."

"I know, thanks. I better go. Bye now."

John slipped the phone back into his khakis and continued the walk back to his apartment with a spring in his step. Anna was thinking about him. She wanted to cook for him. She hadn't contacted him yet, but she would. He was sure of it. John's need to seek her out immediately dissipated. He would let her be the one to contact him. She wanted to be in control and he would let her.

Feeling measurably better, John paused on his building's front steps. There would be no food in his kitchen worth eating after being gone two months. Perhaps he should pop into the neighborhood mart and grab something for dinner. On the other hand, he felt grimy all over from his travels. He really should take a shower. His empty stomach warred with his dirty body.

Hygiene won out and John unlocked the outside building door. His side could benefit from a scalding hot shower and maybe he did have some rice or oatmeal in his cupboards if he didn't want to go back out. Not much of a meal, but he'd survive. Or he could knock on T.J.'s door; he usually had some cold pizza lying around.

He turned the lock and pushed the door of his apartment open with his shoulder . . . and stopped abruptly.

It wasn't hot or musty. The stale smell that usually accompanied a long absence didn't surround him. In fact, a fresh fragrant breeze filled the air. John's eyes were drawn to the source; the living room windows were open. The curtains fluttered cheerfully.

What the hell was going on? John's first inclination was burglary, but as he walked towards the windows he could see the screens were in place and there was no forced entry.

He wasn't halfway across the living room before he stopped again. There unbelievably sat a vase of lilacs. Purple and blooming. Just like he had brought her so many years ago.

John's head spun in confusion. Someone had been in his place. It wasn't just the windows and the flowers. The whole place was clean . . . no, gleaming; as if the furniture and the floors had been recently polished. His eyes wandered to the fireplace. Instead of empty shelves on either side of the hearth, his personal library was neatly aligned. He stepped over and ran his fingers over their spines in disbelief.

How could this be? T.J. was the only one with a key besides his landlord and he had trouble believing either was responsible for his apartment's sudden make-over. He had been in T.J.'s place; it was one step above squalor. No way was he capable of this. But if not him . . . ?

A small click caught his attention. The front door was being opened. His SEAL instinct kicked in. He grabbed the nearest object he could find for a weapon—his stereo remote control—and dove behind the old leather coach.

He heard the click of heels upon the hardwood. Ever so slowly he peeked over the back of the coach.

"Anna?"

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Her scream was followed by a loud crash as she dropped two grocery bags.

John hurried over. Fruits and vegetables littered the floor. A wayward orange rolled into the oozy remains of a dozen eggs.

"John! What are you doing here?" she gasped. "You scared the life out of me."

"What am I doing here? I live here. What are you doing here?"

She wouldn't look him in the eye. "Well . . . um . . . T.J. gave me the key," she answered anxiously.

He could tell she was embarrassed at being caught off guard. But god, she was beautiful: standing there in jeans and a simple blouse, hair loose, chewing on her lip nervously. His heart turned over right in his chest.

John couldn't help chuckling at their predicament. He had been searching for her for days in two countries and she had been in his apartment all along.

Misunderstanding his laugh as derision, she took a step across the mess on the floor. "No, John. Don't be upset with T.J. It's not his fault."

"I'm not upset with T.J. at all. You don't know how happy I am to see you. I've been looking for you for . . ."

Anna face crinkled. "You've been looking for me?"

He nodded. "You see, I stopped by London on my way back from Afghanistan and I . . ."

She reached out and touched his forearm. "Oh, John. I was so afraid for you when T.J. told me where you were."

The feel of her fingertips upon his skin was amazing. "No worries, I made it back safe and sound."

"That I can see," Anna withdrew her hand shyly.

"Anyways . . ." He already missed her touch. "I ran into Lynnie packing up your apartment and she gave me the address to your hotel here. Only you had checked out by the time I got into town."

"I suppose Lynnie's not any better than T.J."

"I'm sure they both think they have our best interests at heart." John took a deep breath. "And so do I. We need to talk, Anna."

"I know."

They stood silent for a minute with food at their feet. Neither making a move to speak. She was so close. Just a few feet away. If he didn't touch her soon, John was going to explode.

But he checked himself and simply held out his hand.

She took it without hesitation and he walked her over to his beat-up old couch. As they sank into the soft, tired leather, John tried not to think about the last time they had sat on this couch to have a meaningful conversation.

"John . . ."

"Anna . . ."

They both stopped and grinned at each other. The fact that she was grinning at him had to be good sign. The fact that she was even sitting in front of him at all was an even better sign.

"You go first."

"Okay," Anna understood that he was relinquishing control of the situation to her. She didn't speak immediately. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked John straight in the eye for the first time that evening.

"I've done a lot of thinking since we saw each other last," she sniffed a laugh, "Probably too much thinking." John nodded back encouragingly. He knew all about that.

She tried again. "It's so incredible this situation we find ourselves in. I mean, I have all these memories or what seem like memories to another life . . . another person. But it's not my life, yet I can feel her down to my bones."

"I feel it too. It's their essence . . . their souls, perhaps?"

"Maybe, yet it's so real. When I glimpse into her life, it's like I'm reliving it. I can see Downton, hear their voices, know the feel of hard chairs in the servants' hall. I can even smell the wax from the pomade he wore."

John mouth lifted up in a half smile. "And she smelled of rosewater and bleach."

Anna sighed. "We know so much, John."

"Is that a problem? This new found knowledge doesn't change the way I feel about you. I still love you as I did before. In some ways, it just enhances it."

Anna trembled at his declaration. "I think so too, but it's hard for me to shake the explanation for why it's occurred. Are we just pawns? Thrown together when God or fate chooses. Did all these terrible things happen in our currents lives just so we could find each other?"

John reached out. His palm finding her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch. "I wish with every fiber of my being that I could have prevented all the horrible things from occurring in your life . . . but I can't. They happened, Anna, and nothing will ever change that. I don't know if they happened for some fated reason or they just happened because sometimes really awful things happen even to the best of people."

Both his hands searched for hers. "Let me ask you this. Does it matter?"

Anna's eyes shot up confused, a glint of ire.

"I'm not asking whether or not your rape should matter no more than my actions in Afghanistan should. What I mean is . . . our being together doesn't change the fact you were raped or I shot those kids. We can't alter the past. It will be there whether we are together or not. But lord knows, I want you by my side.

Anna squeezed his hands and brought them to her lips. "I do, too. I love you so much, John."

Emboldened by her words, John pulled her close. She burrowed her face in neck as he rubbed his cheek upon her silky hair.

"And I, my dear, love you eternally."

They stayed wrapped together; neither needing more than the embrace.

Finally, John felt Anna moisten her lips against his neck. She was readying herself to speak. The wetness upon his skin was electric. He breathed in sharply.

"This feels so nice, so right . . . but John, I'm not going to lie to you. Part of me was scared to see you again."

John pulled back and brushed back loose blonde strands from her face. "Anna, why? Do I frighten you?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, not at all. It's the fear that we're trapped in some endless cycle of misfortune. I mean, look at all that happened to us just in this life and then add on the misery they faced the last time around. The thought of losing you again . . . it breaks my heart."

"But we can't dwell on what happened before or spend a lifetime worrying about the what-ifs."

Anna shut her eyes and nodded her head decisively. "You're right; you're absolutely right."

Filled with conviction, she reopened her eyes and sought his. "Even if the worst happens and we are to come to some tragic end . . ," she gulped before continuing, " . . . it would much more tragic to not be with you at all."

"You mean that? You really do?"

"I do, John, with all my heart."

"Well, then." John laid a quick kiss upon her head before disentangling himself and standing up much to Anna's surprise. He reached a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a small object.

Before Anna could say a word, he sunk to one knee and held out his hand. Within his fingers, a small gold ring glistened in the late afternoon sun.

Anna covered mouth with her hands and whispered, "My ring!"

"I've been carrying it in my pocket since the day my mother sent the package of her belongings." He didn't need to identify whose belongings he spoke of. Anna understood innately.

"It's not quite the same," John explained holding it up between his index finger and thumb. "While I was in Kandahar, I took it to a local jeweler who specializes in native stones. He refashioned it with a secondary band with a gem setting."

Anna leaned in and examined the bright blue gem. "It's exquisite! What kind of stone is it?"

"Lapis lazuli, it's semi-precious and has been prized since antiquity for its intense color." John smiled adding, "And I knew it would match your eyes perfectly."

"I'm not sure since my eyes are now a watery mess," Anna joked as she blinked back at tears that were rapidly forming.

"Then I better get on with it before you melt away." John took a deep breath. "Anna, you are my heart. The one constant in my life even when I didn't know you. You are smart . . . brave . . . competent . . . loyal . . . funny . . . astonishingly beautiful . . . it's an endless list. Simply, I am a better man when I am with you. And I shall endeavor to shower you with my love for the rest of my days."

His vision blurred and he unconsciously swiped at his eyes with his shirtsleeve before continuing in a shaky, but strong voice. "Anna Mae Smith, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Anna reached for him, tugging him off the floor. "Yes, yes! A hundred times yes!"

Their lips met in a frenzied kiss that had been months coming. John hands began to tunnel into her hair when he realized he still held the ring within his fingers.

"Wait!" He gasped pulling back. "We need to make this official."

He engulfed her tiny ring hand within both of his. They looked like paws in comparison. He slide the ring onto her third finger.

"Still fits," Anna noted with a smile. "But even more lovely."

"God, I love you." Everything that John had been scared to ever dream was coming true. He was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

"Come here," Anna drew him down with her onto the couch. It had been such a long time since they had been able to enjoy each other's company and touch.

John reveled in her supple body and he took his time depositing kisses up her bare neck. Anna hands found their way under his polo as she nibbled at his ear.

His lips had almost made it to hers when his stomach issued a long and loud growl.

Anna pulled back slightly and giggled. "Haven't eaten recently?"

"Not since breakfast and Lynnie insisted on bangers and eggs. I was too nervous to eat anything on the plane." John grinned mischievously down at his new fiancé. "But I hear chicken cordon bleu might be on the menu."

"Christ! The groceries!" Anna sat up and scrambled off the couch.

John reluctantly hoisted himself up and returned to the mess on his hardwood floors.

"So Susan told you I had messaged her?" Anna asked as she tried to put items back in a torn brown bag.

John picked up bananas and a carton of ice cream. "You've met my sister. Of course, she called me. Wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to butt in."

They transferred the salvageable groceries to the kitchen counter to sort. "Then she's not mad at me or anything?"

"Are you kidding? She adores you. In fact, I fully expect a visit in the near future once she finds out about our impending nuptials. Beware, she'll plan the whole wedding if you let her."

"On second thought, maybe we should elope," John laughed pausing in the middle of putting celery in the crisper drawer. "It all seems so surreal. We're together. Here. Now. Talking about weddings. Living on the same continent. As it goes, I haven't even congratulated you on your new job. Quite the promotion, I'm told."

Anna opened up a cupboard. "Aww, thanks. It's a dream job. Our office will be in charge of all the historic acquisitions for the whole of America. A huge responsibility. To say I'm intimidated would be an understatement."

John reached over and brushed a finger down her cheek. "You'll do a magnificent job."

"I hope so." Anna finished putting up the last of packaged goods as John finished up with the refrigerator. Groceries away in less than five minutes. They made a good team, but John already knew that.

"John, I've got ask. You just mentioned living on the same continent. Are you home for good? T.J. wasn't sure what you were up to . . . whether or not you were going to be to be in DC for a while or go back over. It's just . . . the thought of you over there makes me sick to my stomach. I mean, I know it's your job and all . . .

"Stop right there," John commanded before pulling her into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere. Robert wants to me to handle the DC office for the foreseeable future while he oversees our operations abroad."

Her face reflected both hope and doubt. "Are you sure? Is this something you want give up? I know you have your reasons . . ."

"It's not for me anymore. Don't get me wrong, it's an amazing organization that I want to continue working for, but I don't need to be on the front lines. That time is over. I have too much to live for to put myself in harm's way."

Anna tucked her head against his neck. "I can't tell you how happy that make me."

John pulled back and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Glad to hear . . . because you're stuck with me now for good and proper."

She awoke. Alone. In the dark. Rumpled bed sheets on his side. Panic seeped through her veins. He was gone.

She slid out of bed, silently. It was their bedroom, but she didn't recognize it. The hallway was even darker, even less familiar.

She made her way down the long, black corridor. Alone. He was nowhere. Her heart beat louder than her footsteps.

Finally, the hallway ended and opened up into large living room. The front room of a house that was theirs, a house she didn't know. Moonlight spilled into the space. Her eyes adjusted to the dark and caught sight of a solitary figure by the window. It was him. Relief flooded her senses.

A whispered song met her ears:

"Hush little baby, don't say a word
Pappa's gonna buy you a mockingbird,"

His back was to her, but she knew his voice. Her husband's voice.

Frozen. She didn't move as he sung verse after verse. He swayed slightly from side to side, facing the darkened street outside. His reflection blurred in the picture window. His arms were full.

"If that horse and cart fall down
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town."

Slowly he turned around. In his arms, a baby slept. Their baby. A beautiful girl with black curls and blue eyes.

He saw her standing there and smiled.

"Did we wake you?"

She shook her head. Rooted in her fantasy.

He came closer until he was right in front of her, inches away. Without saying a word, he brought his free arm around her waist while confidently holding their daughter in his other.

"Come on, let's go back to bed," he whispered in her ear.

Real. This was real. And all she ever wanted. To be together, to be a family.

They began down the hall together.

Anna's eyes snapped open. She peered over to the nightstand. The green glow of the digital clock read 3:04am.

She must have been dreaming.

Surveying her surroundings, it didn't take her but a moment to realize where she was. In D.C. . . .in John's flat . . . in his bed. Only a few hours earlier, they had fallen asleep entangled after making love for second that evening. His warm body spooned hers with his arm casually draped over her waist. A muffled snore reverberated along her hairline.

Dreaming again. The baby wasn't real, but it was a much more pleasant dream than what she was used to. No more nightmares of Mac or hangings or prisons or arrests. She had dreamed enough of the past for this lifetime.

But if she could dream of the past . . . why not the future? If fate allowed her and John to remember years behind them, why not years in front of them? What if her dream tonight was truly a vision of the future?

Liking the possibility, Anna snuggled more firmly against John's naked body causing his arm to unconsciously tighten around her waist.

With that, she drifted off to sleep, safe in the knowledge the future was nothing to fear.

A/N: So there you go . . . I hope the ending wasn't too simplistic, but sometimes life does come down to the basics. Like Branson said, "the rest is detail."

Thanks for reading, folks!