A/N: This idea was born from a handful of ficlets that I've had lying around, often written soon after the corresponding episode aired. A few have been written special for this collection. Like my other collections, I apologize for the lack of flow, changes of style, differences in length, etc. But I'd rather not upload these one by one, whoops. And per usual, I have arranged them by chronological order.

Given the nature of this work, there is a little less of Anna and John themselves here, but nevertheless, I hope that this conveys their love through the eyes of others. I also hope that I managed to keep everyone in character!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed "Mother's Little Helper" and special shout-outs to theglamourfades and Isis the Dog :)

Warnings: "Better" contains references to suicide, sexual assault, and miscarriage, and in general describes anxiety. Without giving too much away, this one is more of Anna talking to Thomas in S6E8.

More than Anyone in the World – 1916

There's a difference between something private and a secret – or so Anna told her.

Mary had not made it a habit to know the ends and outs of the family's servants' lives. It just wasn't done. She only even knew tidbits of Carson's, and he had been there forever.

But she and Anna had grown closer in the past few years, largely in part to the incident with the Turkish "gentleman." Now that was a secret.

Anna, on the other hand, was extremely private.

That was never to say that Anna never told her anything. In fact, Anna did like a bit of gossip. But she often did not offer information on herself. Her background was fairly unknown to Mary, other than she was originally from the area, but did not start her time in service at Downton. Only recently did Anna divulge that she had moved a few times, and then came back down here to be a housemaid at age sixteen.

Mary did not spend much time with her until she herself was sixteen, and a maid was assigned to her. Anna was head housemaid, the position to take on the duties. Head housemaids were primed to be become one of two things: to become a lady's maid, or to become a housekeeper. Anna leaned more to the former and was very promising from the start.

There was a third path, one that any maid nearing the age of 25 thought of. Marriage.

Anna however seems happy with her lot.

Then things changed.

Mary honed in her talent on extracting information, and reading Anna's moods. Her maid would offer advice, which Mary always took as sound, but she knew there were reasons for it. Anna's worldliness had to come from somewhere.

She had comforted her last night, when Matthew appeared with a fiancée in tow… but now her maid scurried around, as if avoiding Mary's gaze, her expression a mix of emotions.

"Anna, are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine, m'lady!" she chirped in her usual manner.

Mary raised her eyebrow, and then caught sight of Anna in her mirror. She was easier to read now. Joy. "What's got you in such a happy mood?"

"Well, we weren't going to tell anyone yet, then again his lordship does know, and you might as well hear it from me… Mr Bates and I are engaged!"

Mary had to admit that her opinion on the valet, well, really had rested on the opinion of Anna, and that of her father's. She didn't spend that much time with him, and had at first agreed with Mama that it made no sense to have a valet who required a cane. But eventually Carson also held him in esteem, and that all amounted in a more glowing review.

"Oh that is wonderful! Have you made any plans yet?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Mary realized that the faster Anna wed, quite possibly the faster she lost her maid. Her confidant. Then again, if Mary were to become Sir Richard Carlisle's wife, then she wouldn't be at Downton much longer herself.

She shoved those thoughts aside, as Anna smiled so brightly, but then sighed a bit. "Your lordship knows this, so it's not a secret, but… Mr Bates is still legally married to someone else. He has not seen her, or been in contact with her, for years even before coming to Downton, but when his mother died well… his wife"—Mary could tell it somewhat pained Anna to refer to another woman as her fiancé's wife—"popped up, and now he thinks he can secure a divorce."

"Well, that's certainly a complication…. But nevertheless, I am so happy for you, Anna."

It was in fact the happiest she had ever seen her.

But Anna did not come to ready Mary for bed the next night though. Nor that morning. The excuse that was that Anna was not feeling well. It was at breakfast that Papa had revealed that Bates had left with his wife, who showed up announced, leaving Anna despondent. That's all he would say.

When she finally reappeared the next morning, Mary could sense Anna was trying to keep up an appearance of false normalcy. She smiled with all her "m'lady"s, but the sadness in her eyes was palpable.

Mary's first instinct was to be angry with Bates. Angry that he could ever do this to kind, sweet, Anna. But Mary also knew that Anna was not naïve, and that she knew of the situation that had to be resolved before they could wed. Anna would not just give her heart to anyone – that was always clear whenever they talked about love in the abstract.

"Anna…"

"Yes, m'lady—"

Mary cut her off with a wave of her hand. "You… you cared for him very much, didn't you."

"I do."

"I'm… I'm so sorry."

Anna wringed her hands. "Thank you, m'lady.

They wouldn't speak too much about it later, not until Anna thought she saw him in the village. The maid bottled up pain, and the cork had been popped off.

"If you love him more than anyone in the world, then of course you should."
"It's not as simple as that."

"Oh? It is for me. But then, I'm not your ladyship."
"Did you love Bates more than anyone else in the world?"
"I did. I do. I'll never love again like I love him. Never."

Since I met you, I believe in everything. – 1918

Bates was back, and Robert could not be more relieved. Well, perhaps he could, now that he knew Matthew was safe too. It all came together neatly. Exactly how he liked it.

As they filed out of church that Sunday, after a long sermon, prayers for the soldiers, petitioning God to finally end this war, he watched Bates and Anna huddled closely together. Almost touching, but not quite. Had they been any other engaged couple, they'd walk with their arms linked. But alas.

He wondered what Bates thought of it all, this service. Although he was always careful with how he worded it, Robert knew that his valet wasn't a believer – his faith in God long extinguished with the horrors that he seen in war.

Anna was probably as devout as any Yorkshire miss, although not that really knew what most of his servants' ideas were on church.

But as he watched them, Bates head bowed lower so that he could hear Anna's voice, the earl realized that the couple had perhaps an even deeper faith – in one another.

Envy – 1920

"I envy you."

"Whatever you say."

"No. I mean it. The happy couple and everyone's so pleased for you. Can't imagine what's that like."

"I don't think that'll be necessary."

The staff jumped to attention as they heard his voice. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes could not contain their excitement.

But Thomas Barrow just tried to stop himself from frowning.

John Bates might have faced more trials and tribulations than him, but in the end he was going to get a happily ever after. Something that Thomas would never get. He would never be gifted a cottage to call home with the love of his life. No one would be applauding and celebrating if he was reunited with the person he loved. He wasn't even sure if anyone would ever love him as much as Anna loved Bates.

He had always disliked Bates, stemming back from when Lord Grantham had hired his old war buddy as his valet over him. Bates had a moralistic code that drove Thomas nuts. When Bates had returned the first time to Downton, during which Thomas was the manager of the convalescent hospital, the he had less of a motive to antagonize him. But during Bates' incarceration, Thomas saw the opportunity to seize the position of Lord Grantham's valet.

The job issue was one reason for Thomas' grumpiness. With Bates back, his lordship would surely be bumping him from valet to who knows what. Back to a footman? They had two new ones, that wasn't going to work. But in addition to that, Thomas was filled with a bittersweet feeling. Since Lady Sybil's death, he had commiserated with Anna in their sorrow, being the two of the staff who knew her the best. Anna, for the most part, was extremely kind, but she did not take well to any harsh actions against her husband. She was a fiercely loyal person, and Thomas knew that his short-lived alliance with Anna would break as soon as he even glared at Bates.

He could not hate him blindly as he had before. As he stared at them, he was torn between his loathing of Bates and his affect on his job security, his—dare he say?—happiness for Anna, and most of all, his jealously for the happy reunited couple, all smiling, lovingly touching each other in the servants' hall.

Thomas Barrow did not hate John Bates; he envied him.

Jane Eyre – 1920

"Thank you so much, Anna, for letting me borrow you." Perhaps it was her sister Edith ought to be thanking, but she had not really asked her permission anyway.

"Not a problem, m'lady, always happy to help." The lady's maid pushed a hairpin in a little further. "All done now. If you need anything else, just ask."

"I really shouldn't though, you're Mary's maid, not mine." Edith's eyes flickered up to meet Anna's in the mirror. The blonde smiled in return, always kind.

"Unfortunately, Madge is not quite cut out for this yet, and I want to look good for our guests tonight." She sighed while putting on her dinner gloves. The new replacement as head housemaid wasn't quite up to snuff in taking over some of Anna's other duties that she no longer was in charge of now as a lady's maid to solely Mary. "No one can style hair as well as you do."

"Thank you, m'lady. Although the styles are changing and it's hard to keep up. So many shorter styles too."

"Will you ever cut your hair short?"

"Oh no, I'm too used to it being long, I think I'd regret it. And I don't think my husband would ever forgive me if I did." Anna chuckled.

Her mention of Bates made Edith pause. She knew that the maid was much closer to Mary and probably divulged more to her – or more that her sister was nosy and pried. Either way, Edith realized that she needed some advice, and Anna might just be the person she needed to talk to – and give her the answer she was looking for... she had once pointed out the Bateses age difference to defend her own choice in beau, and, subconsciously, she might use them to defend her latest. In all honesty, she did not know that much about her father's valet, other than Papa trusted him with his life, and that Anna loved him fiercely.

"Anna, do you mind me asking you something? Something a bit more personal?"

Edith had turned away from the mirror and the women's eyes met.

"What is it, m'lady?"

Always so prim and proper with the "m'lady", rolling off of her tongue, truly meaning it.

"It's just—well, I was wondering, but well—" Edith hemmed and hawed. How could she bring this up, without admitting anything?

Anna was a bit puzzled but smiled. "Yes?"

"Well, Bates was married before. That is to say, he was married to someone else when he met you."

The lady's maid nodded. "Yes, that is true."

"And he obviously didn't live with her, when he worked here."

"Yes, they were separated. For many years. Before he first came to work here." Anna's voice became terser.

Edith was realizing that in a normal conversation, she was making a misstep. That said, Anna was a servant of the family… not that Edith really ought to use that to her advantage. Although she had before, a version of herself she wasn't all that proud of, using Daisy a pawn against Mary.

Back to the matter at hand: she had the same understanding as most of the people under the Abbey's roof about Bates' first wife – she was horrible, he came here, met Anna, etc etc. Then she offed herself.

But he had pursued a divorce at some point.

"And he didn't decide to divorce her until he fell in love with you?" Edith tried more nonchalantly.

"Well as you know, getting a divorce is very complicated, especially when one half of the party is unwilling." Anna paused. "She had abandoned him, and was hard to find, so he had let it go."

"Until he met you."

Anna tried to contain a sigh, and Edith was regretting this a little bit. The Bateses had finally been able to step out from the shadow of the ghost of his late wife, and Anna probably wanted to keep the past in the past. Although, perhaps if Anna was more annoyed, she wouldn't find it odd for her to be asked the particulars now of all times.

"Yes, but even though Vera had abandoned him, he still blamed himself and didn't think it fair to her or me to actually, well, progress our friendship into actual courting. We knew of each others' feelings for one another, but could never fully act on them."

Ah.

"Well not until he thought he had a chance at a divorce."

There was a lull as Edith mulled over her next question. "When did you know he was married? At some point you knew and then didn't take things further. Well, at that time that is."

Anna smiled again, which made Edith relax a little. "Do you remember the Flower Show in 1913?"

Edith frowned, "Not exactly?" As if she could remember all the years separately, when it was the same thing over and over again, and before the war changed everything. Times of a bygone era.

"It was the one where the Dowager Countess let Mr. Molesley's father win best bloom."

Oh yes, that one. She nodded.

"Well, on the way there, I confessed my feelings to him. And he had felt bad that he had lead me on. He hadn't really, it was all just subtle hints and the like but…" she trailed off, remembering.

"And what did you think about that? That he was married."

"I figured that there was something he wasn't telling me. Obviously they were separated, and I didn't know the whole story. It was a lot like that at first, him hiding his past like that."

"But not now, I assume."

"No, not now." Anna beamed.

A sudden idea came to Edith, and she knew that she could risk giving things away. Anna may have been a servant, but she was smart – and in fact her being well read was needed for this next question.

"You've read Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre?"

Anna nodded. "I suppose we ought to have been glad Vera wasn't setting fires…."

"But was it right of Jane to return to Mr Rochester after all that?"

She was right – Anna did see through this.

"M'lady… if you are asking me if I recommend carrying on with a man, married to someone else, with no promise of a real marriage to you… it depends on one thing." She paused. "If you love him more than anything in the world, then you should. But if you don't… Even if it means…" she trailed off with a slight indication of her head. "I'd be remiss if I didn't say that I was willing to go extremes fleeing the country if need be. But Mr Bates wanted to do things properly, and I am grateful for that."

Edith took in Anna's words as she left, but was not sure if they were of comfort or not.

It would take Anna a few years to remember this conversation. Not until she found a photo of a baby hidden underneath a pillow after a fire. Ironically started, albeit accidentally, by Lady Edith herself.

Shadows – 1922

Once Phyllis Baxter had gotten the job as Lady Grantham's lady's maid, Thomas gave her detailed profiles on her new colleagues.

"His lordship's valet and the eldest daughter's lady's maid are married," he had written, the smugness coming through the page. "Bates is entirely too self-righteous and Anna is Little Miss Perfect. She will engage occasionally in a bit of gossip, but with her husband, so the only way to get any information out of them is to eavesdrop. Stay on their good side, and they will be kind to you, especially Anna who wears her heart on her sleeve. They are extremely lovey-dovey, it can be a bit sickening at times."

Thomas, of course, was no romantic. But upon arriving something seemed off. The Anna Bates that she met was skittish, and her inquiries to the under-butler and to her new friend (could she say friend?) Mr Molesley didn't seem to think that this behavior was odd. But the picture both of them painted did not seem to match up.

Then Lord Gillingham came to visit. With his valet.

Everything clicked in Phyllis' mind, but she wasn't about to tell Thomas. She'd tell no one. It wasn't her business.

With time though, Mrs Bates seemed to open up a little bit more. Time heals all wounds, or so the saying goes. Phyllis wasn't so sure about that, but she hoped that it was helping her fellow lady's maid. She really was as kind as Thomas had said.

"Sickening" was however the wrong word. In fact, Phyllis found them endearing, often close together in the servants' hall. She found herself listening to make sure things were all right, rather than to dig for information. It wasn't fair to them. Mrs Bates always seemed to brighten when her husband came to join them at the table, and even in her quieter moods, his presence seemed to soothe her, quite the opposite from when Phyllis first arrived. She decided that he hadn't known what had happened then. She now though felt guilty knowing what she did – or what she thought she did – but she feel more at ease that things were getting better.

The Crawleys had a few friends over for dinner one evening, and a few of the guests had personal attendants spending the night as well.

Phyllis could sense that something was wrong, even with the pleasantries exchanged. The blonde lady's maid seemed to be hiding behind her husband, an easy task. She seemed like a mouse in front of the lions, though, and his protection wasn't enough. She muttered something, ducked behind him and out of the room.

There was a flash of something, of the uttermost concern, then covered by genial stoicism, the well reserved Englishman. "You must excuse Mrs Bates, she hasn't been feeling all that well lately." It was a well-practiced lie. He slipped out of the room himself.

Bells rang soon after, and Phyllis found them huddled together in the corridor her head buried into her husband's shoulder. Her heart ached for them, but knew that their own ached more.

Changes – 1925

Charles Carson had come to collect his wife to head home, and found her chatting with Mrs Patmore, their heads bowed and voices low, meaning one, thing: gossip.

"Well, she has been filling out in the right place, if I might say so myself."

"I have been seeing what you have been seeing, mostly definitely," the cook agreed. "It's not just my food, even if she has had double the appetite lately."

"I'd say it was a matter of time—but I suppose it was more about time, really. After all she's been through—well, it's nice to see her so happy."

Mrs Patmore nodded to indicate that Mr Carson had entered the servants' hall. "Well, I'll bid you two adieu."

She scurried off as the Carsons made their way to the door.

"What was that about?"

Before Mrs Hughes could answer, they almost walked into Mr Barrow, who as clearly upset.

"He's unhappy he still hasn't found another job."

"Hmm, well I think that we might be seeing some more staff changes at sooner or later anyway, although I'm not sure it would help."

Mr Carson looked puzzled, as they journeyed off into the cool air.

"Anna." Mrs. Hughes' voice dropped a little lower as she mentioned the name.

He remained confused. "Why would Anna resign? I don't think her and Mr Bates are pulling up stakes any time soon. They would have said something. That said, I do think that Lady Mary won't replace her if she, or rather they, were to go, so there is that."

"Just think about what Mrs Patmore and I were talking about earlier, I know you caught some of it…" she paused, waving her hand. Her husband still looked baffled. "I suppose it's good to know that you aren't staring at her figure, but you did notice that she asked if she could sit down during the tour…"

"And normally, she shows great propriety." Finally something clicked and his eyes widened in realization. "I see, I see. Well. I'll hate to see her go, and really, she's one of the best staff members who's ever worked here…"

"I knew we'd get there," Mrs Hughes said with a bit of a laugh.

"We may be jumping to conclusions, but I suppose it is only logical." Mr Carson sighed. "We'll worry about that when it's confirmed, although it is odd that she even is still working."

"I'm sure she has her reasons, but she also is quite modern."

"Well, as long as Lady Mary allows it. She does know, doesn't she?"

"She has eyes, Charles."

"Well, so do I!" The butler was flustered.

"Very well, she has eyes, is a woman, and has a son!"

Mr Carson sighed and then mulled things over. "Do you think they'll both perhaps leave? I feel like Mr Bates would have told his lordship, who would have passed it onto me, even if he wouldn't tell me the reason why."

"Perhaps. Anna's mentioned once or twice that they did hope to buy an inn themselves, and I do think that would be nice for a family… but I can see them staying for a bit. It might take the wee one's arrival for things to go completely into motion."

"But still best I send Mr Barrow on his way though I think. When it comes down to it, I think that Mr Molesley could just be a valet-footman or something…"

"I suppose." She had a starry look in her eyes. "I wouldn't mind them staying on for while though. It's been a long time coming for them to have some happiness, and they'll make wonderful parents. Anna's always been natural with the family's children, you can't deny that… and admit it Charlie, you wouldn't mind it too terribly to have a bairn downstairs."

His affection for children wasn't too hidden, but it often was hard to believe that the formidable Mr Carson had a soft spot.

At that, he changed the subject slightly. "While I stand by that Lady Mary won't have another lady's maid, if Miss Baxter was to go, we'd see her replaced."

"And why is that exactly?"

"A countess cannot dress herself."

The housekeeper rolled her eyes, but grinned into the night.

Conditions – 1925

Being a keen observer is why Thomas Barrow was fond of Miss Baxter, and really, she was surprised he hadn't mentioned this to her before himself.

She wasn't really sure how to bring it up, and she knew that she really shouldn't, but she couldn't help but thinking… Was Anna's overcoat… fitting differently…?

And then as they were out of uniform, and setting up and serving the luncheon at the track… the blouse was loose, but it hugged in the right place.

It all made sense though. That's why everything was so filled with light for them now. The shadows had lifted. Only real smiles. Grins and laughter.

The day turned into tragedy, although not as personal for them as others. But Mr Bates, in his moment of panic that his wife was going to racing after Lady Mary, said, "in your condition."

Ah, there we go. As she told Anna later than night, congratulating her, a bit of a blush creeping on the blonde's face, it really did brighten the day after the tragic turn for events. It just seemed so fitting for them to deserve happiness finally. And Phyllis really did prefer having a joyful secret about them instead.

Better – 1925

Anna gives Lady Mary and Master George a half smile as they leave before setting the tray down over Thomas' lap. She resists the urge to place her hand on her back as she straightens up. They'll tell everyone soon, but she still has that niggle of nervousness. As he takes the fork in his hand, she can't help looking at the bandages around his wrists.

"Well, thank you," he says.

She forces herself to look him in the eyes. He's sincere, something he rarely is with her. "You're welcome. Miss Baxter and I will come check up on you throughout the day."

He nodded and looks down at his meal. A feeling overwhelms her as she watches him, her own demons and anxiety a sensation now within the top layers of her skin. She has to say something before she leaves the room, back to the din of downstairs, back to sit down next to her husband, to have another good giggle of Mrs Patmore's somewhat silly misfortunes.

"Mr Barrow—Thomas," she switches to his given name, doing away with the formality, "this isn't something I really like to discuss but—well it's something I haven't really ever discussed."

He moves the food around on his plate but doesn't put any in his mouth. "What, the fact you're pregnant?" He glances up at her, a small sly smile on his face, that he'd caught her in a secret.

That's cut her train of thought short, forcing her to switch from the darkest place of her life to the happiest. "So you have noticed then, have you?" She can't help but smile herself. She still worries so much, but with each passing day, she begins to give a little more into the excitement.

"I think everyone has." He points with his fork to the bump in her lady's maid dress. Small now, but there, growing more and more visible through her clothes everyday. "I'm surprised you and Mr Bates haven't made some formal announcement."

"We have our reasons." Anxiety bubbled up again. It's not the same brand but it makes her return to her point. She wrings her hands. "This isn't about that. It's that… I know what's like it—" She's having trouble getting the words out now. It's the stuttering that comes out instead whenever she tries to express anything about that horrible night.

"Do you?" Thomas' tone isn't so much icy as it is detached. "To feel like you were better off dead?"

Her voice is small in her reply. "I have."

She can feel his eyes on her studying her. She avoids meeting his gaze. He probably is surmising that she means pining for Mr Bates or something that the under-butler would deem obnoxious.

"You know—you know what he did to the woman who—who did push him?" She can't even utter than sorry excuse for a man's name.

Thomas sighs heavily. "I had thought maybe." He doesn't finish his sentence but there is a moment of understanding. After a pause he utters, "I'm so sorry."

She nods in acknowledgement. "I only was going to do it if—well," she gestures to her expanding belly. She can't think of how to continue to say how she couldn't have beared having that monster's child, especially not when she and John had wanted one of their own so desperately. The silver lining was knowing now, after the struggle to keep the current life growing inside of her, that she wouldn't have even been able to physically carry that child had it ever existed. But she might have thrown herself into the pond too early. She's only ever hinted about this to John; she only ever blurted this to Mrs Hughes. She had shoved this aspect of the whole ordeal to the far reaches of her mind. But it had been there. "I was lucky," she finally says.

He puts the fork down. "I know you are trying to make me feel better, but at the end of the day, the difference between you and me is that you have Mr Bates. You have someone who cares for you, and loves you no matter what. Not everyone has that, and I certainly never will."

"Love comes in more forms that just the romantic variety, Thomas. People here do care about you, if you just let them. Miss Baxter treats you like her brother, and Andy was telling us about how you were helping him with his reading."

"Yes, but I have not been very kind to anyone. You and Mr Bates know that, of all people."

Anna sighs and rocks on her feet a bit on the hard floor of the bedroom. She's having too many conflicting emotions, and the little one flutters within her. "You once said to me that Lady Sybil was the only one who'd care if you died. Well, that's not true." Her voice cracked a bit. "I know that you don't want to hear this from me, because you think that Mr Bates and I live in some fairytale. But it has taken us a long time to even think about our dreams. But it does get better. It does. I know. And it's not just love from others that gets you there. You have to," she takes a deep breath, "accept and love yourself. And we are here to support you through that if you let us. But it does take time. It's not something that happens overnight."

Silently, he picks up the orange George gave him.

"He adores you, know you, Master George." Her voice becomes lighter. "I was sixteen when I came here, but Lady Mary was only ten, and she used to come downstairs to see Mr Carson and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Please let him continue to do the same to you."

Thomas smiles again. "That I know I can do." He pauses. "How long are you staying on?"

"Well, as long as I can. I don't fancy too much being all alone." She wrings her hands again a little bit.

"But surely you'll take time off when the tyke arrives?"

Thoughts of staying home with her child nestled against her chest fill her head. Her tone is wistful, although she smiles. "Of course. We are still making plans, though, but very cautiously." That ought to give him an idea without too many details. She glances at the clock and shakes herself back to the present. "I ought to get back down, but I'll be back later."

She turns to leave.

"Anna," he calls after. She looks back at him. "Thank you."

She nods, and feels better, like a calm wave now has settled.

She can only hope that Thomas now begins to feel the same.

Curious – 1925

"Anna?" Daisy piped up.

"Yeeees?" Anna intoned.

She was at the point where her belly was the first part of her that entered the room. It was harder now to sneak touching it at work, and her hand wanted to fly to touch it at every kick and wiggle. She still could cradle her bump low, hidden under the table, where she was seated now, tea cup in her other hand.

"What's it… like?" the assistant cook asked.

Anna raised her eyebrow, while wondering just how much she wanted to tease her. Mr Carson wasn't in the room, so she didn't have to worry about embarrassing him anyway.

"Well… what exactly do you want to know?"

"Does it feel… odd…?"

She had to contemplate that one. "I suppose it did a little at first, feeling them move but… it's also… rather amazing."

"I wonder if I'd think the same," Daisy said, replacing the water, "Because I just don't know if it's for me. Having babies and stuff."

Truth be told, in Anna's mind, it didn't really seem like it was, because she still often thought as Daisy as so young, even with how she had grown.

"It is for you though, most definitely," Daisy continued, "I know that you and Mr Bates are going to make the best parents. Really, I think I'd need a Mr Bates of my own…" she paused and then added a phrase she had uttered before, many years ago, "always a romantic figure."

Anna didn't know when John had entered the room, but there he beside her, about to join her at the table.

A romantic figure indeed.

All was right in the world – 1926

They were a merry band as they shuffled up the stairs and onto the gallery.

"I don't think I've ever been in Lady Mary's bedroom," Andy commented.

"I have," Thomas said cheekily.

Mrs Hughes turned to shush them. "Let's not be rowdy, they could be sleeping."

Mr Carson turned to her. "Check to make sure everything is all right before we all…" he waved his hand to indicate "enter."

The housekeeper opened the door slowing, peeking in. She saw the family, now of three, together on the bed. Mr Bates motioned to her to come in, Anna too besotted to look up from the bundle in her arms.

It was so serene. Mrs Hughes leaned back out into the corridor. "Let's go in pairs, just to be safe." No need to make the little one cry, he – Dr Clarkson had popped down to tell them downstairs it was a boy before he left – had do enough of that later.

She beckoned Mr Carson to follow her and they entered the room. The sight of Anna with her newborn, propped up against so many pillows, filled her heart with immense joy. It was the most natural thing. Of all the things that the couple at been through, finally, they were granted what they deserved.

A/N: Hopefully that wasn't too terrible! Again, as some of these I wrote a while ago, it might be a bit of a stretch to include them here, but I think that they fit the theme in one way or another. As for the others, sometimes it's a challenge to write the other characters' POVs. And yeah, there was an S6 bias, whoops.