Bates was used to insomnia. Sometimes he was too tired to sleep, other times his leg ached like the dickens, usually during rainy weather. He didn't sleep much in any case; he much preferred being up and about, focusing his energies on something. His capacities may have been limited, but it was better than lying in the dark, pushing away bad memories.

So instead he read, a Kipling book, sitting upright in bed, being sure to keep the lamp dim. He had just turned the page when he heard a soft knock at the door.

He blinked, wondering if he'd misheard. It was hours until morning, William shouldn't be getting him up already. Before he could decide whether or not to get up, the door quietly opened. He dropped his book in surprise.

Anna Smith, clad in a white nightgown, softly tiptoed into his room. She shut the door behind her, wearing a secretive smile.

"Anna?" He managed to ask, completely dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

She said nothing, continuing to smile at him and cross the room towards him. She was barefoot, and Bates couldn't help but notice her delicate ankles as her nightgown swished around her.

"You're going to catch it," He warned her as she neared his bed. "If Mrs. Hughes finds you here. Or Carson. Or Thomas…"

"Are you going to tell them?" She whispered. Her tone was light and teasing.

"Of course not," Bates licked his lips anxiously. "But—what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you," She replied. She sat on his bed like it was her own. Her hair was down. He'd never seen her hair down before. It was gorgeous, lush, thick golden waves. He uncomfortably shifted away from her.

His mouth was dry. "And…why did you want to see me?" He asked, a little raspily.

Anna's smile broadened. "I think you know," She replied quietly. She placed a small hand on Bates' blanket covered leg.

Bates' eyes widened. "I think—I think you should go," He said in a slightly strained voice.

Instead of leaving, she scooted closer to him. "Do you want me to go?" She questioned. Her hands were beginning to wander, curiously touching his undershirt.

"I—that's—beside the point," Bates stammered. "Mrs. Hughes wouldn't hesitate to sack either of us if she even knew you were inside this room…"

"I think," Anna said, still in that quiet, firm voice. "That it's worth the risk." She leant forward and pressed her lips to his. In that instant, Bates' mind turned to steam.

Her lips were light and gentle, the barest feeling of pressure and yet the intensity of it seemed to enflame his senses. He had several logical, rational reasons for why she should not be doing this, but they all seemed to fly out of his head as she kissed him softy, her warm breath tickling his chin. He was helpless to resist when he felt her tongue trace the bottom of his lip, asking for entrance. God, he'd do anything to see what she'd taste like…

But he didn't have that right. He broke away from her, shaking his head. "Anna, we can't—" He tried to tell her but Anna didn't seem interested in listening to his weak protests. She kissed him again, gently sucking on his lower lip, begging for entrance. This time, he yielded to her, letting her explore his mouth with languid patience.

She tasted like cinnamon and sunshine, warm and sweet, the barest trace of spice. She sighed a little into his mouth in the most deeply uncomfortable way; her contentment and desire really wasn't fair. But the more deeply she kissed him, the more he seemed unable to resist her advances, going as far as to cup her face tenderly in his hands. In his hazy state, he suddenly realized she was no longer sitting on his bed, she was lying on the bed, half on top of him.

"Anna," Bates breathed against her lips, her name coming out like a plea. He could think of no more coherent words then, as her hands wandered to his sides, sliding beneath his undershirt. He gasped noisily when she nipped at his neck, the sensitive spot just below his ear.

"I want you," She whispered against his skin. "I've wanted you since you arrived. Please Mr. Bates…"

"John," Bates managed out in a strangled voice. "Call me John…"

Her smile was radiant as she looked at him. "John," She purred, returning to his lips. He fell backwards and Anna followed suit, as good as straddling his legs. Every thought was screaming for him to stop this at once, but every kiss pushed him more and more over the edge. Despite what rational thought was telling him, having her on top of him seemed so right, so natural that she should be there, giving soft little moans as he plundered her mouth. She tugged at his shirt.

"Take it off," She whispered headily, her blue eyes hot.

Wordlessly, he obeyed her. Her eyes gleamed when he removed the undershirt and she licked her lips, causing him to flush like a schoolboy. He'd never considered himself particularly attractive—too old, too crippled, too fat—but her eyes indicated otherwise.

Anna pushed him back down on the bed, trailing kisses down the sensitive areas of his neck, applying just the right kind of pressure. She slid one hand down the center of his chest, looking far too pleased with herself. She paused for just an instant, smiling wickedly, lifting the hem of her nightgown and placing his palms on her outer thighs. At this permission, he experimentally touched and stroked, in awe of how smooth and pale they were. He inhaled the scent of her throat, smelling vanilla and cinnamon, loving how she shuddered at his touch. He let his hands wander to her glorious hair, running his fingers through their softness. She gently teethed his skin, flashing a minx-like smirk at him as she did so, her own fingers tracing designs down his arms.

Her nightgown was obstructive but thankfully thin, giving him leave to explore her soft curves. He'd barely even dared to imagine such impropriety, especially with Anna, he valued her friendship and respected her—but she was so sweet and willing in his bed, moaning quietly when he caressed one fabric-covered breast. He ran his other hand down the curve of her backside, the sharp sound she made making him instantly hard.

Her eyes bright, still smirking that delicious smirk, she loosened the threads of her nightgown and it fell easily against her shoulders, revealing her breasts completely. His fingers itched to touch but he was paralyzed, staring at her like some wanton goddess, looking completely at home astride him. She laughed like an angel and took his hand and pressed it to her breast, encouraging him to stroke, to squeeze.

His hips bucked unintentionally and she laughed again, the mischief on her face so sweetly wicked. She slid down his legs, busily unbuckling his belt and he half-wondered if this was the moment he should insist they stop. He opened his mouth to try, but what came out was a throaty groan as she expertly cupped him through his trousers.

"Anna, you don't—" Bates attempted to say but before he could finish his sentence, she'd pulled down his pants and unsheathed his length. Before he realized what was happening, she'd taken him into her mouth and he cried out in ecstasy. She paused for half a moment, looking up at him and giving him the most unholy of grins before resuming her work, licking his hardness with long, torturous glides of her tongue.

"Anna, you've got to stop…" He gasped out. His entire body was on fire as she took him deeper. At his painful request, she giggled, the vibrations of her laughter nearly sending him to his release.

"Anna, please," He begged, grasping her hair, using his last vestiges of sanity not to pull too hard. "I'm going to…"

At that, she lifted her head, wiping her mouth slightly. Her lips were red and puckered and she looked devilishly pleased with herself.

"You're right," She murmured. "Don't want to waste you…"

At that he sat up, although he couldn't say for sure why. She hiked her nightgown up to her waist, grinning lasciviously as she rubbed herself against his cock. Her wet heat was nearly his undoing, and he gritted his teeth painfully as she thrust herself upon him. She clenched all around him, her exquisite heat driving him completely mad. She rode him dizzyingly hard, gasping and crying out with every movement, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. His hips jerked upward to meet her motions as she took him as deeply as she could. He was so close to climaxing, so close to his release, she couldn't possibly be anywhere near. Fire swam through his veins, everything was blinding heat and he captured her mouth, swallowing her cries…

"Mr. Bates?"

Everything dissolved when his eyes snapped open. William was knocking at the door, it was morning, Anna was not in his bed, and he had made a mess of his sheets.

"Mr. Bates? It's time to get up!"

"Yes, thank you, William," Bates managed in a strangled voice.

Anna couldn't help but notice that Mr. Bates was a little late for breakfast. Carson gave him a steely glare—punctuality was a virtue after all—and Bates mumbled an apology as he took his usual place next to her, concentrating very hard on preparing his tea.

She noticed the color on his cheeks was a little high. "Are you all right, Mr. Bates?" Anna asked.

For some reason, he didn't look her in the eye. "Perfectly all right, thank you," He replied to his teacup.

Shrugging her shoulders, she went back to her breakfast.