A/N: I'll admit this is a little off script in the sense that I placed John and Anna a little closer in age. I wanted them to both be able to attend university around the same time without having such a large age gap. It's a modern A/U and I wanted to explore what these two would be like if they had a drunken night together. This is in celebration of theglamourfades birthday (aka froggattcoyles on tumblr). Hope you all enjoy. Please review.

The Definition of Us

Chapter 1

It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to just call or text out of the blue. They had been friends forever. So much so that it had never occurred to him to love her as anything more than that. Anna Smith was like family to John Bates. She had been a constant in his life; she sat with him out in the snow in front of their school the day his father had walked out on him and his mother, she had attended the funeral with him when his mother died, and cheered him on when he got accepted into the university of his dreams. He had been just as much a part of her life as she was of his. John met that fiery little spirit when she tried to defend her older brother from a group of bullies at school, he knew she never liked to go home after her mother remarried, and he was the only one that encouraged her to pursue a degree in art. Together they had navigated the highs and lows of adolescence. And while there were forces in the world that threatened to pull them apart, their relationship only grew stronger as time marched on.

John found himself in the university library thinking of her when he should have been studying for his exams. It was happening more frequently now. The way her face or her voice would suddenly creep up into his thoughts. He was defenseless, unable to push her from his mind even when he wanted to. And when he was in her presence it was all the more complicated. He had always found her pretty, of course. Pretty was an understatement. She was stunning and riveting. Her thoughts challenged his way of thinking and her voice was like music to his ears. As the words fell from her lips he could only stare at the way her mouth moved, and imagined what it might be like to press the curve of his lips against hers. John shook his head as he tried to get control of himself and focus on his studies. His eyes poured over the same page he had already read through five times before but had somehow failed to absorb a single piece of information. He felt a vibration from his pocket and quickly tried to pull the mobile phone out before he disturbed the other library patrons. A single name flashed across the screen. One that would be permanently etched on his heart and mind. Anna.

John tried to find a some solitude between the stacks where he could speak freely without the risk of being shushed. "Anna?" he asked. A call from Anna was a normal occurrence, but not this late in the evening. He glanced down at his watch to check the time again. It was nearly midnight.

"Hello, John?" an unfamiliar voice answered back.

"Yes, this is he," John replied with a hint of concern. If it wasn't Anna calling him, who was? And why did they have Anna's phone?

"You probably don't remember me. I'm Anna's friend. Gwen," she responded.

Gwen? Gwen. Yes. He remembered now. A sweet, tiny, red-haired girl with freckles spattered across her cheeks. She had seemed to have a thing for him at one of Anna's birthday parties, but he had paid her no mind.

"Yes. Gwen of course. Is Anna alright?" he asked. John hoped he hadn't sounded too desparate.

"She's fine, but we went out to celebrate the end of the semester and I'm afraid she's had a bit too much to drink. I can't get her home on my own. You were the first number to pop up on her phone contacts that I recognized. I hate to bother you..."

"I'll be right there. Just let me gather my stuff up here. Text me the address," John instructed on the phone as he headed back to his seat where his books were strewn about on a table.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it," she replied.

"It's not a problem. No thanks required. Stay put," John said.

"Anna, I need you to drink some water. You don't want a hangover tomorrow," Gwen tried to prevent her friend from feeling worse in the morning.

"I'll be fine," Anna answered back confidently even though she stumbled a bit as she took a seat.

"You most certainly will not. And I don't need you getting sick in the car when John gets here," Gwen argued.

Anna temporarily came to her senses, "John is coming? Here? Tonight?"

Gwen had to restrain a laugh. "Yes. I told you that already. He'll be here shortly to help me get you home."

"Oh no. He can't see me like this," Anna said as she tried to peek a glance of herself in a mirror.

"Well he's going to have to. I can't very well carry you up the five flights of stairs to your flat on my own."

Anna quickly headed for the restroom in an effort to clean herself up. John had never seen her drunk before.

"Gwen!" John called out when he spotted the red head. He made his way through the crowd to get to her as fast as possible. Even though Gwen told him Anna was alright his mind wouldn't be fully at ease until he saw her. When he reached Gwen his eyes immediately sought out Anna. John had to remind himself not to completely ignore Anna's friend at the risk of being rude. "Thanks for calling me," he said as he hugged her briefly. "Where is she?" he asks hoping he didn't sound too desperate.

"She's tidying herself up in the loo," Gwen filled in.

John nods his head in understanding. "How bad is it?"

"Not horrible. But walking a straight line is proving to be quite problematic," Gwen filled him in.

Just then, Anna emerged from the restroom clutching at her stomach. John wasted no time closing the gap between them to help her. His hand circled around the back of her waist and he couldn't help but smirk as her head came to rest on the side of his shoulder. "Hey kid," he greeted her warmly as he always had. The nickname was an old habit from when they were children. Anna having been a few years younger than him it had come naturally. "You look a little worse for the wear," John said teasingly.

"No. I'm just getting my second wind," she responded cheerfully. "You should have a drink with me, John. Gwen is being a spoilsport," she said with a pouty lip.

"As tempting as that sounds I have a long night of studying ahead and I won't be able to concentrate fully until I know you are home safe and sound," John said truthfully.

Anna hooked her arm over the back of his neck as she spoke, "Tell you what..."

He smiled easily. John could tell she was already mapping out a way to get what she wanted.

"If I drink the rest of this water and I can make it back to my flat without getting sick, you have to partake in a drink with me."

"Anna..." he began to argue.

"And a dance," she added.

"Anna," he resisted a little louder.

"Come on, John don't be a fuddy duddy. You're always so serious," Anna said as she ruffled his hair a little.

Had it been anyone else he would have snapped at them for invading his personal space, but not Anna.

"I'm not always serious," he shot back.

"You almost never smile," she pointed out.

"I smile," he sounded slightly offended.

"When?"

"Whenever I'm with you," he thought to himself.

"I don't know. But I'm sure it happens," he stammered.

She chuckled in response and gripped his arm to regain her sense of balance.

"What do you care if I smile anyhow?" he inquired.

"It's a glorious smile. If only you could see what I see when you light up," she thought to herself. "You're my friend. It's my job," she declared.

"Alright kid. Well as my friend I'm sure you want me to finish studying and get a good night's sleep. So let's get you home," he reasoned. "Now where's your purse?" John asked.

"Right here, you fun sponge," Anna said sarcastically as she held up her purse for him to see.

Gwen chuckled to herself as she trailed behind them.

John struggled to keep Anna upright while working the keys in the lock. But he eventually managed it and helped Anna inside. John assisted her out of her coat and folded it neatly over the back of the couch. "Can I get you some water?" he offered.

"Yes please," she answered softly.

Her apartment was covered in half packed boxes; a silent reminder that she'd be leaving soon to spend a year abroad studying art in a few short weeks. John rummaged through the cupboards in search of some Tylenol. He turned around to hand Anna the glass filled with water when he realized he was all alone. "Um...Anna? Where did you go?"

"I'm in here!" she called out from her bedroom.

Her words gave John pause as he stopped just short of her bedroom door. "Are you...um" he cleared his throat, "decent?"

"Oh John, don't be daft," she said. "You've seen me in far less."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked with a look of confusion.

"You've seen me in a swimsuit," she reminded him.

"That's different," he tried to argue while averting his eyes.

"Is it really, John?" she countered innocently. She began removing her shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost spilling the glass of water on himself.

"It's bloody hot in here and my air conditioner is out," she explained. "Don't worry. I'm wearing a bra."

"Oh, yes that makes it alright," John muttered to himself as he set the glass down on her bedside table.

Anna appeared to be struggling with getting her shirt off and finally John crossed the room to help her, "Here. Let me help you." He approached her cautiously and asked her to lift her arms, which she did without hesitation. John then slid the shirt up and over her, his fingertips lightly grazing her sides. She flinched only slightly; he clearly hit a ticklish spot. She smiled up at him; like a beautiful flower in bloom, her mouth blossomed. Goosebumps spread across her flesh, but it wasn't cold. Could it be that she was nervous in front of him? Her exquisite breasts were still held within their pink satin confines. John turned away and began fishing through her dresser drawers looking for a night shirt or at the very least a tank top. He finally located a t-shirt and outstretched his arm towards her to pass it over while still keeping his eyes fixed on the wall ahead of him. "Here you go," he said abruptly.

The shirt was dangling from his hands, but Anna did not reach for the garment. "I don't want to change, John," Anna stated clearly.

"Well, I can't very well just let you walk around topless. It wouldn't be right," John argued. His words held firm in their resolve, but his thoughts were an entirely different matter.

Anna rose from the bed and walked closer to John. She pulled the shirt from his hand and tossed it over her shoulder. A mischievous smirk settled on her face and her eyes darkened as she looked him over from head to toe. "Then let's even things up shall we."

"How do you mean?" John asked with a hard gulp.

"You take off your shirt," she suggested.

"Anna, I can't...I have to go…" he tried to stand firm on his decision.

"Go where, John? Back to the library?"

"Yes."

"You and I both know you know that material backwards and forwards. Come on. You need to let loose once in awhile," she said trying to convince him. "Besides, you promised to share a drink and a dance with me."

"Actually, I didn't promise. You suggested it, I merely avoided the topic," he shot back.

"Uh, you can be such a lawyer sometimes," she groaned with frustration.

"Well, that is what I plan on being," John replied. The conversation had taken a somewhat serious turn and for a moment John forgot that she was standing in front of him wearing only jeans and a bra.

"Well, I'm having a drink," she concluded. "And I prefer not to drink alone. So…"

"Fine," John huffed.

Anna cleared her throat and whistled as she pointed to his shirt. "You are a little over dressed for drinks with me."

John let his head droop down, unsure of what kind of hold she had over him. And yet he couldn't find it in him to argue with her. He shrugged his shirt off and pulled it over his head. The motion left his hair in disarray and revealed the muscles in his back and arms to her.

Anna bit nervously on her lower lip as she tried to control her baser urges.

"Are you happy now?" John asked.

"Quite," Anna replied readily. She scurried into the kitchen, her hips swaying in a hypnotic fashion. Anna began to pull out some shot glasses and found a bottle of vodka in the freezer.

"Well, while we are making rules. I can't drink in absolute silence," John said as he strutted through her sitting room and found the cd player. He skimmed through her selection and after a few cd cases were rummaged through John finally put a disc into the player. "Now this. This is a good song. I can't believe you have this song," he commented.

"I can't believe you like this song," she remarked.

"I'm only a few years older than you, Anna. I'm not cashing social security checks just yet."

She came to life with laughter and began to pour the liquor into the shot glasses. Her hand shaking slightly from her laughter as well as her inebriation.

"What are we drinking to?" he asked before running a hand through his loose hair. He stretched his arms and swung them back and forth like he was preparing for a marathon.

Anna was so captivated by the sight of John walking around in only jeans she almost didn't answer the question. His chest and lower half was covered liberally with dark hair. He wasn't quite chiseled, but he was fit and she had always fancied the way he looked.

"Anna?"

"Huh?"

"What are we drinking to?"

"Friendship. Of course," she stated.

They clinked their shot glasses together and let their heads fall back as the vodka fell into their mouths. With their eyes clenched shut they both let out a groan as the liquor ran down their throats and settled in their belly. "Now what?" he asked.

"Now we paint," Anna instructed.

"Uh, it's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"What does your Mum enforce a bedtime?"

"No."

"Alright then. What's stopping you?"

"Nothing I suppose," he answered back.

"Well then?" Anna handed him a brush and began pulling out some paper. She cranked up the music and began removing her pants. It happened so fast John didn't even have time to respond. "I don't want to stain my jeans with paint," she said as if reading his mind. She was down to her knickers and bra, looking fine as hell, and who was he to argue with her logic.

John stepped forward to paint with her, but she raised her hand to stop him.

"You'll want to do the same," she added

"Is this a regular thing for you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I feel so much more free when I paint like this," she commented. Anna then went back to the cd player and cranked up the music.

Before they knew it they were dancing to the song John had put on. The two of them dancing innocently. Their bodies occasionally coming together, but never anything more than friendliness being exchanged between them. John spun her around the room and what he lacked in rhythm he made up for in confidence. Anna only loved him all the more for it.

They both took another shot before setting to work on their canvas. John lacked the vision she had but he didn't let it stop him from trying. All the while Anna praised him for every squiggle and doodle he added to their shared masterpiece. He kept arguing that he had messed it up or it looked stupid, but Anna would merely kiss his cheek and tell him, "I'll make it better." Her words carried more weight than she realized. All his life that is what she had been doing. Fixing all the broken moments that didn't make sense. Somehow making them better than he had imagined. She playfully splattered him with paint from her brush and John did the same. Her blonde hair was tied up rather sloppily, but he still looked at her with complete adoration.

And half hour or so later they both found themselves lying on her bed, their bare bodies covered in paint, save for the underwear and bra. Her second wind of energy had lasted longer than he expected but he was glad he listened to her. Those moments spent alone in her company were just what he needed. He couldn't imagine being this close to anyone else as long as he lived and that was what scared him the most. What if he told her how he felt and she didn't feel the same way? Or if she did but he found some way to ruin it like his father did with his mother? He could never forgive himself if he did something like that to Anna. But what if he never said anything and she ended up with someone else? Could he really just idly stand by and pretend to be happy for her, when he knew that no one could possibly try as hard as he would to ensure her safety and happiness?

Anna pulled him from his thoughts as she snuggled up next to him; her hot breath on his neck, her breasts still encased within her bra but pressed up against him, and her hands resting perfectly against his bare chest. John pushed a loose lock of hair from her eyeline to get a better glimpse of her face. His fingers stopped to trace the tiny scar she had above her eye from a car crash she'd been in a few years ago. It was a day that still lingered in his memory; a day he nearly lost her for good. He had taken a semester off from university to be by her side for the entire recovery. She had worried that the scar would be noticeable, but John had assured her he could barely see it and she was still just as gorgeous as before.

"What if no one likes the way I look after it heals?" she had asked half teasing.

"I will like you," he assured her.

"That's not the same. You are my friend, you have to like me," she said with a giggle.

"My love for you is like this scar, Anna Smith. Hardly noticeable but permanent," he joked.

She paused and smiled broadly as she reminded him that, "Like and love are not the same things."

"Alright, then I'll love you," he answered back without a moment's hesitation.

The conversation came to a grinding halt as they sat there awkwardly until Anna's mother had arrived to check in on her daughter.

The more his eyes roamed over her perfect form, he could still pinpoint each individual brush stroke he had marked her with. Her laughter still filling his ears as she squealed out with glee. It wasn't the first time he had seen her like this, but he suddenly had a new found appreciation for her and her figure. The way she was so willing to share herself with him like this. It went beyond friendship, surely. Maybe there never would be a simple term to define what they shared. Parts of their lives would not always fit into one simple box that was neatly labeled, but perhaps it was divided into compartments as their friendship and love for one another had evolved.

"John, what are you brooding about?" she mumbled while half asleep.

"I'm not brooding," John whispered back to her as he pulled a sheet over her to keep her warm.

Anna's hand began to snake up the front of his body and stopped just under his chin as she tilted his face towards her own. Her lips pursed together as she closed her eyes and let her mouth cover his. She let out a gratified moan as their lips molded together.

The sensation that shot down his spine and settled in the pit of his stomach was all too gratifying. John could feel himself responding to her; wanting more of her with every stroke of her fingertips upon his flesh. "Anna...we have to stop," he protested.

"Why?" she asked back in a moment of clarity.

"Because you've been drinking. It would be taking advantage," John said. His brain was calling him every possible horrible name in the book. "I wouldn't want you to make a decision you'd live to regret."

Anna sat up on her elbows and faced John squarely, "I couldn't regret it. Not ever."

John bit down on his lip as he considered her words, "Maybe not. But if that were something we were to do, I'd rather you be able to fully enjoy yourself and remember it the next day."

Anna laid her head back down upon his shoulder and let out a pouting sigh.

John scolded himself for not rebuffing her more gently. He may have just ruined any possible chance he had with her in the future.

They laid there in silence, John lightly caressing the soft skin of her back and arm as she fell asleep.

"John?" Anna asked in a groggy voice with her eyes still closed. "Why are you so good to me?" she said in a whisper before succumbing to sleep. A small snore escaped her lips and he smiled down at her.

He considered his response and leaned closer to her ear, thinking that she probably wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning. "It's because I love you," John whispered into her shell of an ear as he watched to see if she'd respond. She only continued to sleep peacefully in his large arms. "I always have and I always will," he added with a raspy voice.

John laid there in the dark as he kept a vigil over Anna. There. He had said it. And maybe she hadn't heard it, but he had come to the conclusion that she would eventually.