A/N: So here's a oneshot inspired by "We Kiss in a Shadow" from Rogers and Hammerstein's The King and I, as well as one of the July Fanfiction Bonanza prompts, "courtyards are for secrets." This is pure fluff, set sometime before they were married (I'm thinking like S1 or something), and driven by my headcanon that Mr. Bates is a really good kisser.

...I think most of the Banna fandom would agree, and I know Anna would.

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

Enjoy~

The servants' dinner had long since been over, and it was getting to the point in the evening when the footmen broke off to play cards and smoke, and the maids watched or retired to their rooms to talk amongst themselves. While they were nowhere to be seen in the servants' hall, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes had retired to their respective offices to finish whatever work they'd had before dinner, and Mrs. Patmore was nearly finished with cleaning the kitchen for the night. It seemed like only a matter of time (a half-hour, at the least) before everyone would go upstairs to the attics for the night, and Mr. Carson would make his rounds to lock up.

Outside in the courtyard, John Bates sat on an old workbench, his cane leaning beside him as he read by the light of the lamp fixture that was mounted by the door into the downstairs halls. He didn't care for cards, not as much as he had when he'd been younger, and he knew that Thomas and even William wouldn't give him the warmest of welcomes if he asked to join their game. He was much more content to rest his legs and enjoy a good book in the still silence of the darkened yard.

"There you are."

At the sound of Anna's voice, John looked up, closing the book and setting it aside without diverting his attention from the head housemaid. "You startled me," he said, clenching his jaw as he felt his knee twinge in protest when he stood. "Is Mr. Carson locking up for the night?"

She shook her head. "We still have another quarter hour," she told him, extending a tentative hand towards his face.

Her touch sent heat throughout his body, John was able to forget that the air between them was cold enough that they could see each other's breath. He placed his hand over hers, reveling in how delicate her hands were compared to his; if he didn't know better, he would've said she was one of the Crawley sisters by the feel of her hands. But he did know better, and he knew she was a hard worker, with subtle callouses from years of working as a housemaid.

"Before long, we'll have all the time in the world," he murmured, taking her hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her skin.

"Mr. Bates!" He couldn't see well enough to know for sure, but John was sure that Anna was blushing. She glanced over her shoulder at the servants' entrance, and her small body tensed against his. "What if someone sees us?" she hissed.

A laugh escaped his lips. "No one'll see us," he assured her, resting his hand at the base of her skull, cradling it as if she were a newborn babe as he stooped to kiss her.

John could feel Anna's hesitation as she returned the gesture, her eyes closing as the corners of her lips curled into a blissful smile. He pulled gently at her soft lips, careful not to startle her. With the moon nothing but a blurred sliver of white overhead, all they had was their sense of touch to guide them in the partial darkness, a darkness which he both thanked and cursed.

John thanked it for concealing them from the prying eyes of their colleagues, who would only torment Anna if they knew. Thomas and O'Brien weren't the only ones who would give Anna a hard time (They'd do more than that, surely, he thought) if they found the head housemaid as she now was, in the arms of John Bates, a married man and former convict (though what they knew about those two chapters of his life, was of no importance to John), but he had no reason to fear his estranged wife. The Lord knew Vera was about as faithful as Cressida, and John knew he was powerless to prevent it, regardless of how easily he could remind her that she was his wife- if he wanted to.

That was the thing: he didn't want to remind Vera of his claim to her. It would give the impression that he still fostered a hope that they could mend the broken parts of their marriage, a hope that he had long ago abandoned. Why would he want to remain bound to a creature as cold-hearted and unfaithful as she, when there was Anna, who didn't have a spiteful bone in her body, and who didn't seem to know how to do anything other than good. It was like being asked to chose between the Devil and an angel, though in John's case, the Devil was already bound to him with a gold band and a "til death do us part."

"I love you, Anna Smith." He could feel the breath that'd carried his words cause the hairsbreadth of space between their lips to tremble.

He wanted to see the flush of color in her cheeks as he spoke those words; he knew it happened, because he felt it beneath his lips, but he wanted to see the flustered red of Anna's cheeks, he wanted to see her blue eyes blinking as she registered his words. Knowing that they were there, veiled by the same shadows that hid the lovers, but unable to savor them for his own, it made him feel cheated. Moments like this were few and far between, especially when there was a lot going on up at the house, or when Anna was required to ameliorate any issues that followed being short a maid or two, as she was now.

It was the distance between these trysts that gave them greater value, John knew that, but oh, how he longed for the day when he and Anna could profess their love in the sunlight, maybe even as man and wife! To be able to go on picnics by the lake without either of them having to come up with excuses for their absence, only to return seperately- her first, then him ten minutes later. That would be the greatest miracle of all.

A love as true as theirs didn't belong in the shadows of the courtyard, where the danger of being found out permeated the air like the smell of tobacco that lingered around them, as if Thomas or O'Brien were spying on John and Anna from the same shadows that protected the lovers. It belonged in the sun, where John would finally be able to see Anna's glittering eyes and radiant smile for what it was, so he would have a sight to join with the shapes and movements he knew by heart from stolen moments in the shadows.

"Anna?" Mr. Carson called, shattering the frantic silence with his rumbling baritone. "Anna are you still there? I'm about to lock up."

Downton's head housemaid pulled away from His Lordship's valet, her hands flying to straighten her hair and smooth her skirt. "Coming Mr. Carson,." She gave John a pointed look. "You'd best come in after me. I won't let you get locked out," she assured him in a whisper.

John nodded and watched her go, her blonde hair like a lighthouse beacon in the night, until she disappeared inside, leaving him all alone with the shadows and the phantom pressure of her lips on his for company.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading. It's always neat when I hear a song and my mind instantly goes to my OTP of OTPs, and I couldn't resist writing this one, it just seemed like too good a chance to pass up.

You're welcome to review if you wish, and thank you for your support.