A/N: Happy Birthday, Downtonluvr ! Hope you're having a grand time! :)
When asked if there was anything specific she'd like, Alexis said that she'd like to see either a story where Anna and John get their children ready to trick or treat, or one with Anna loving Halloween and John liking it less, and this changing with the existence of their children. I liked both, so thought I would combine them. Final chapter should hopefully be up on Halloween.
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.
Trick or Treat
1. Trick
"John, can you give me a hand with this?"
John sighed dejectedly as he heard his wife's voice floating up from the sitting room. He had sneaked upstairs to escape the madness for five minutes, but it appeared that five minutes of peace was too good to be true.
"Coming!" he called, wincing at how doleful he sounded. Dragging his feet, he made his way downstairs. Anna turned as soon as she heard him in the doorway, beaming.
"Be a darling and hook this up for me," she said. "I'm too small to reach."
For the first time John damned himself for being so tall. He took the misshapen witch from his wife's hands and tacked it over the fireplace. The rest of the room was a veritable grotto for all things spooky; carved pumpkins stood guard in the window like the soldiers around Buckingham Palace, a skeleton hung from the back of the door, bats swung from the lampshades, and Anna's own live black cat, Sooty, had stolen his armchair. She'd told him early in their relationship that she'd rescued him from the local animal charity centre simply because he'd reminded her of one of the symbols of her favourite holiday of the year (although, by her own admission, a romantic Valentine's Day had now superseded the holiday of sweets).
"I don't see why we had to do this," John sighed as he watched Anna flit around with a pot of fake blood. She smeared it down the stark white paint of the door. "And that's going to be a bugger to get off."
"Well, Mary can't do it this year with little George being so young," replied Anna. "They've got a babysitter for the night so I said I'd throw it this year."
"And here was me looking forward to a quiet night in."
"You're just an old grump. If we had it your way we wouldn't even open the door and hand out sweets."
"I used to do it," John protested. "Until I ran out one night and one little shit decided that egging my window was the best way to go."
Anna snorted, moving to wrap her arms around her. "Poor baby."
"You don't sound very sympathetic."
"Well, if you looked as grumpy as you do now I'm not sure that you didn't deserve it. You don't need to be such a Scrooge about it."
"Scrooge is Christmas," he reminded her. "Besides, grumpy or not, no one should throw eggs at someone else's property unless they're prepared to answer for it."
"You really are a barrel of fun this evening," said Anna, untangling herself so she could move to peer out of the window when a car door slammed. "It doesn't look like anyone has arrived yet, thank God. Will you keep an eye out just in case someone arrives early while I pop upstairs? And I'd better uncork the wine, let it breathe for a while."
"If someone spills red wine all over the floor again like they did at your birthday then you're cleaning it up this year," John grumbled, remembering the hour he had spent scrubbing at the stubborn stain to no avail while Anna supervised from the settee. She only poked her tongue out at him and disappeared.
It wasn't that he didn't want Anna to enjoy herself and let her hair down. He loved to see her happy; it was the reason he breathed. But a party wasn't his idea of a good time. Now, sitting in the darkness watching a gory horror film to commemorate the holiday was more his kind of thing. He wasn't even a particular fan of the genre—he spent most of his time resisting the urge to make scathing remarks about the intelligence of the characters who ended up in those hapless situations—but Anna spent most of her time squealing and hiding her face against his chest, and that was something that he could get on board with.
Still, this was what Anna wanted this year, and she deserved it. She had unfailingly put up with every frustrating barrier that his ex-wife Vera had thrown his way when they had first met each other, and even when he wouldn't have blamed her for walking away from the whole sorry mess, she had stood firm by his side. A better woman had never existed, and he had promised her silently that he would do everything in his power to make her life as wonderful as he could.
Smiling in resignation, he straightened the little witch ornament on the mantelpiece over the fire. At the sound, Sooty raised his head, blinking enquiringly.
"What can I say?" he told the cat. "I'm a fool in love."
"Okay, I'll take over from that for a while."
John turned at the sound of Anna's voice to find her standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. He let the breath whistle from between his teeth as his eyes widened.
"Bloody hell," he rasped.
Anna raised an eyebrow at him, pushing off from the doorframe. "Oh, you like this?"
"Like it? I love it. You look incredible."
His eyes roved over her as she came to a stop by his side. It was true. Anna had donned a skin tight cat suit for the event. It was working wonders, showing off every dainty curve and dip. He was particularly drawn to the way that it accentuated her bottom—Anna's was truly lovely, and just seeing it like this was having an effect on him. He tried to clear his throat but he couldn't look away. Anna solved the problem for him, stepping neatly into the circle of his arms and tipping her head back so that she could see his face. She'd blacked her nose and drawn whiskers across her cheeks. Cute little ears sat on a band atop her head. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her back.
"Are you sure we have to have guests over tonight?" John asked, this time for a completely different reason.
"Yes. It's far too late to change our plans now. Now go on, get upstairs. You need to get changed as well."
"Please tell me you're joking."
"Of course I'm not. It's a fancy dress party. We can't have you being the only person not taking part."
"I don't have a costume."
"Yes, you do. I knew you'd object, so I went and picked you one out myself."
John stared, utterly gobsmacked. He wasn't sure if he should feel more irritated or amused that she had gone behind his back and arranged the whole thing so masterfully.
"Don't worry, it's a nice one. You'll like it."
"What is there to like?" he muttered. "I'm going to look a fool in front of everyone."
"I don't think anyone is going to look as big a fool as Robert is, from what Cora has told me."
The thought did little to bring him comfort, but there was little he could do. He was well and truly beaten.
"Where is the costume?" he said moodily.
"In the spare bedroom. And cheer up. It's not the end of the world."
"Isn't it?" he countered sardonically.
"Oh, come here. It's only for a few hours." Anna squeezed him, tucking herself under his chin. "Now, you've got about half an hour before they start arriving. Give me a kiss, and try to smile. You're so handsome when you do."
"Hardly a consolation," he sighed. He let her kiss him briefly, before pulling away. She smirked at him.
"You're cute when you pout, too," she said. "Now go on, get."
With an exaggerated sigh he left the room, traipsing upstairs to see what monstrosity was before him.
"Oh, bloody hell," he said aloud.
Anna had hung the costume up on the wardrobe door for him. It was completely black, a high collar the colour of blood the only distinguishing feature. The cape hung limply beside it. Dismayed, John limped back onto the landing.
"You can't be serious!" he called down the stairs.
"Of course I am! What's so bad about Count Dracula? He's Halloween-y."
"I'm not wearing fake nails or sprouting hair from my palms."
Anna wrinkled her nose. "There's nothing sexy about that. I was thinking more along the film lines rather than the book. Believe me, there isn't a woman alive who would have rejected Gary Oldman's Count. I sneaked into the cinema five times to see it with my brother. He thought I just liked the story, but that had nothing to do with it."
"Oh great, now you want me to roleplay some weird secret fetish?"
"I'm sure you can pull it off. Now hurry up, they'll be here soon!"
Scowling even though she couldn't see his displeasure, he stomped back into his room and pulled off his clothes. The outfit was far from appealing but he had no other choice, so he pulled the silken material up over his body. At least it didn't cling: the last thing he wanted was for everyone to see his middle-aged softness. He knew that even five years on people wondered just what Anna was doing with someone like him when she could do so much better for herself, and he didn't want to do anything that would fuel those whispers. Robert would call him paranoid, and maybe he was, but the less than warm welcome he had initially received from Anna's family had rather dampened his sense of worth. Tying the cape with a resigned knot, he scrutinised himself in the mirror. The cape didn't look bad, but he wasn't sure about the rest of it. Still, there was nothing he could do now.
Traipsing back downstairs, he paused in the doorway to find Anna with Sooty in her arms, scratching him behind his ears as she cooed. When she looked up and saw him, a grin spread across her face.
"What's wrong with that?" she said. "You look very handsome."
"I feel very silly."
"No, believe me, the ladies are going to love you tonight. You've got the Dracula charisma."
"I think that's the oddest compliment I've ever received," he said, moving into the room. Anna met him more than halfway, leaning up to kiss him. Sooty gave a discontented mewl in her arms, and John winced as the flailing front paw extended its claws and dug them into his chest.
"Sooty," Anna said reprovingly, unhooking the claw from where it had caught on the material of his costume. "That's naughty."
The cat gave her a look that clearly let her know that he didn't care, and she rubbed her nose against his ear for a moment before John ended up with an armful of fur.
"Can you take him upstairs?" she asked. "I don't want him to feel frightened when all of these people descend on us. I've already taken up his food bowls and litter tray. Shut him in our room, he can sleep on the bed for a few hours."
"Your wish is my command," John sighed. "Come on, mate, let's get you settled."
After making sure that everything was in order, John shut the door behind the cat and returned downstairs. Anna was no longer in the living room, and he found her in the kitchen, making last minute adjustments to the party food. She had a glass of water by her side, which she took large gulps from at intervals.
"Can I give you a hand?" he asked, conscious that he was staring at her beautiful pert bottom as she leaned over the kitchen counter. The words sounded a tad lecherous once spoken, and he rushed to add, "With the food. I meant with the food."
She giggled, giving him a look over her shoulder. "I know you did. Pour some wine, that'll be a help. That's the first thing people will want, never mind the fact that I've gone to all this trouble."
"Then I'll make sure that I glower at them until they take something. I can look quite fearsome when I want."
"You might scare them away from the food," Anna said, leaning back when he paced up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bending his head to nuzzle against the side of her neck. He breathed in the scent of her skin, the scent of his favourite perfume wafting seductively into his sinuses.
"More for me and you," he murmured. "We'll need our energy, won't we?"
"Don't push your luck, Mr. Bates. Although, actually, there is something I need to talk to you about."
"Sounds ominous. All right, fire away."
Taking a deep breath, Anna opened her mouth to speak—
The doorbell rang, cutting through the moment with a shrill wail. Anna exhaled in a huff, folding her arms across her chest.
"Never mind," she said.
"You sure? We can leave them out there for a few moments, it won't matter."
"No, I won't have any of the guests complaining that they caught colds from standing outside for too long. Let them in. It'll keep."
"If you're sure." John dropped one last brief kiss onto his wife's mouth before stepping away from her and heading in the direction of the front door. He could see the silhouette of several people from the glow of the outside light, and he heaved a sigh.
It promised to be a long night.
Someone had set the CD player going, and some poppy disco music pounded from the speakers. It cut a stark contrast to the people squeezed in the front room, from Frankenstein's monster to Tom Branson, who had quite literally thrown a white sheet over his head and declared himself a ghost. At intervals the doorbell could be heard, ringing shrilly throughout the house, and the nearest person to the door would shower the trick-or-treating children with sweets and chocolate.
John stayed on the fringes of the room, clutching his glass of coke as he watched Anna mingling with their guests, mostly work colleagues from her school, doing his best to evade door duty. It wasn't that he was unsocial, as he knew many people believed him to be, it was simply that he preferred to interact with people on a smaller scale, over the comfort of a quiet table rather than being squashed like sardines into a room while wearing garb that made him feel ridiculous.
Anna, however, was in her element. She was clustered in the middle of the room with the Crawley sisters and Cora. All of them were cooing over something, and he had never seen Anna grin more brightly than she currently was. Mary swooped in and wrapped her arms around her. John had to supress a smirk despite himself. There was something oddly amusing about seeing a murdered bride embrace a woman dressed like a cat.
"This is a decent party, Bates. Which is how I know that it wasn't planned by you."
Robert's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to find his best friend standing beside him, clutching a beer in one hand and a handful of cheese puffs in the other.
"Cheers, mate," John said sarcastically. "I knew I could rely on your support."
Robert patted him on the shoulder, leaving traces of cheesy corn on his costume, as if it wasn't already bad enough. "You're welcome. I'm appreciating the outfit, by the way. Really retro."
"Anna reckons it's sexy."
"Well, each to their own."
"And yours is any better?"
"Orange is my colour," Robert said lightly, patting the huge padded pumpkin that he was crammed into.
"I suppose it's better than that monstrosity you wore last year."
"Cora found it sexy."
"So we've both got wives with questionable fantasies."
"You won't catch me complaining. Speaking of which, I bet there are some very filthy thoughts running through your head right now, Bates, you old dog. Anna is looking absolutely ravishing."
"And she is also absolutely off-limits. And you're absolutely married."
"And I wouldn't change Cora for anything in the world. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of window shopping."
"And what would Cora have to say about that?"
"Oi, keep your smart replies to yourself," said Robert, prodding him in the shoulder. "Now come on, show me where the beer is. I've finished this one off."
"Your guess is as good as mine. But I'll help you look."
The two men slipped into the kitchen. John went over to the fridge, peering in. Two lone bottles lay nestled amongst the salad.
"Bingo," he said. "Here, mate. Take them before someone else does."
"It'd be Tom Branson. He's been drinking like a fish all evening. What Sybil sees in him I'll never understand..."
Privately, John liked Tom Branson. He was a bit hot-headed at times, but he was passionate about what he did, and loyal and kind. And he was Irish. John had a soft spot for his Irish heritage, and in many ways Tom reminded him of himself in his youth. Sybil Crawley could do much worse.
"I personally think Mary's outdone herself tonight," John commented.
Robert wrinkled his nose. "Don't ask. Apparently she wanted to re-enact her wedding in a more ghastly fashion."
"I think she would have cancelled the wedding if she'd had to turn up to it like that," said John, thinking about the ripped dress and the fake blood smeared over the normally perfectly coiffed young woman.
"You know Mary, she likes to make a statement."
Well, he couldn't argue there. Just remembering the extravagance of Mary's wedding made him shudder. It had simply put his and Anna's quiet affair to shame, though his wife had firmly reassured him that their wedding had been absolutely perfect, and that the most important thing to her was that they had emerged from the registry office with the same surname.
As if she knew that he was thinking about her, Anna appeared in the doorway, clutching at an empty glass.
"There you are," she said brightly. "I thought you were skulking upstairs with Sooty."
Robert excused himself with a twinkle in his eyes, leaving husband and wife alone. Anna crossed the kitchen to his side, turning on the tap and letting it run for a few seconds before holding her glass under the steady flow. John raised his eyebrow.
"Just water?" he said. Usually Anna loved a drink when she went out, though she rarely had more than a few.
"Mary's drinking enough for the both of us," Anna giggled. "Matthew will have to carry her home at this rate."
"I hope you don't feel that you have to hold back on my behalf."
"No, no, it's not that," she reassured him, waving the words away with her hand. "I just think that I should remain sober as the host, make sure that everything is ticking along smoothly."
"I can do that," he said, then grimaced at her humorous look. "What, don't you think I possess the faculties to stay civil?"
"Of course I do," she cooed, before taking a gulp of water. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'm just not sure if there's anyone alive who has the patience to deal with Mary when she's completely out of her head. Even Matthew's patience is tested, and he's like a saint with her most of the time."
"I am a patient man, Mrs. Bates," John huffed, folding his arms.
"They do say that patience is its own reward."
"I like the sound of that."
"We'll see." Anna finished off her glass and then filled it again, leaving it on the side as she turned towards him. "Now come here. I'll give you one kiss to take back into the living room and that's your lot."
"I think it's a fair price," John murmured, stepping closer. She sighed when he slipped his arms around her, snugging her body close to his. Her hands settled on his broad shoulders, and she encouraged him to stoop with a gentle tug, rising up on her tip toes to even the height discrepancy between them. He melted into her touch when their mouths met, deepening almost immediately, shivers tickling his back when her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Anna? Anna, where are—oh, there you are."
At the sound of Matthew Crawley's voice, they broke apart.
"I didn't realise I was interrupting something," the young man said sheepishly.
"Not at all," said Anna smoothly, patting down her hair. "What is it?"
"Nothing…only, you'd better come. Mary's trying to convince everyone that there's a ghost in the house that needs to be found. I think it's your cat making a terrific racket, but she believes that there's some poor lost spirit crying out to be released. Tom's egging her on. Come quick."
With that, Matthew turned on his heel and hurried back the way he had come. John blinked.
"Bloody hell," he said. "You're right, I don't have that kind of patience."
"Rule number one of marriage, Mr. Bates," Anna replied as she walked away. "The woman is always right."
Five minutes later, Anna sent him up to check on Sooty. Mary's drunken insistence that there was something else in the house with them was becoming harder and harder to control, to the point where she was loudly demanding that they make a Ouija board to contact with the roaming spirit. While under normal circumstance the notion would make him snort with laughter, John had to admit that on Halloween Night, there was something eerie about it. It was better to stop Mary in her tracks while they still could.
When he opened the door, Sooty chirped loudly, immediately winding himself around his legs. It had taken the cat a long time to begin to trust him, unbalanced by no longer being the only man in his owner's life, but over time they had developed a mutual bond of respect. John had won him over with cat treats and toys, and now the cat didn't claw John's leg every time he tried making advances on Anna.
"All right, mate, what's wrong?" said John, bending to heft the cat into his arms. "You're not doing us any favours downstairs. There might be an exorcism at the end of the night if we're not careful."
Sooty blinked slowly.
"You might not care yet, but just you wait. Mary won't take kindly to you helping her make a fool out of herself."
Satisfied that Sooty was quiet now, John laid him gently on the bed under one of Anna's old blankets. There was plenty of food and water, and the tray was still empty. Likely he was just bored with staring at the same four walls.
"It won't be for much longer," John promised.
Anna's tinkling giggle turned his attention to the doorway.
"You are so cute with him," she cooed.
"Hardly," he huffed.
"Don't try and downplay it. You love him really. Besides, women like men who are compassionate with animals. Tugs right at their heartstrings."
"Ah, so I finally know what I did to steal your heart. I bought your cat a tin of food."
"Silly beggar, I fancied you long before that." Her smile turned teasing. "That was just when I knew you were the proverbial 'one'."
John shook his head, unable to stop his wry grin. Anna came and sat next to him on the bed, reaching out idly to pet Sooty behind the ears. He purred and rolled onto his back, offering his tummy. Anna stroked it for several seconds, as though she was weighing something up. John waited for her to speak.
"I'm sorry if you feel like I've forced you into this," she said at last. "I know you're not keen on the whole party scene, and with Mary's behaviour I can rather see why you'd prefer to avoid it. I hope you're not having a completely terrible time."
"How could I have a terrible time when I'm with you?" he countered.
"John…"
"I am a little out of my comfort zone," he admitted. "But I love seeing you having fun far more. You deserve to let your hair down. And I'm sorry if I've made you enjoy it less than you should."
"You could never make me feel that way. I promise."
"Good." John smiled, squeezing her tight within the circle of his arms. "Now, why don't we go back downstairs? I think I could stretch to one dance with my wife before the night is through."
Anna's beaming face was the best consolation in the world.
The party ended just after half ten, Anna and John mindful of the other people on their street who would be getting up for work early the following morning. They stood at the door and bade each guest goodbye as they filed out, some looking worse than others. Cora rolled her eyes as Robert merrily clapped John on the shoulder and told him that he hoped that Anna didn't have any horrifying surprises in store for him when the lights went out, and Matthew was practically carrying Mary with Sybil's help.
"Peace at last," John uttered jokingly as he shut the door on the final guest.
"Now the real fun begins," said Anna. "Tidying up this mess."
He groaned. "Can't we leave that until tomorrow?"
"No, we certainly cannot. I know you, you won't be in the mood to face it then, and I simply can't have a messy home. It's late; that'll give us an incentive to get it done as quickly as possible."
"I was hoping that we might head upstairs…"
"Mr. Bates," she said, fixing him with a reproving look, "get your mind out of the gutter. I am not going anywhere until this place is spotless."
"Yes, ma'am," he sighed.
"Good. Now, I'll fetch some bin liners. Start gathering the paper plates together."
They worked side by side for more than half an hour, tipping the remaining food into one bag and the empty paper plates into another for the recycling facility. Thankfully there had been no wine spillages this time, and soon the place was spick and span.
John wiped his forehead. Underneath his outfit, he was sweating. He longed to peel off the layers, feel the blessedly cool October air against his skin.
Evidently sensing his thoughts, Anna said, "Why don't you head on up? There's not much left to do. I won't be far behind you now."
"Are you sure?" he questioned. "I don't mind."
"No, honestly, you go. I'll be up in a jiffy."
"I love you, you know," he told her, moving closer so that he could tug her into his arms. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her smiling mouth.
"Hmm, I know," she said cheerfully when he pulled away. "Now go, before I change my mind."
"Don't be long," he murmured into her neck. "I'll be waiting."
"Mr. Bates, get." Anna's voice was stern, but there was no hiding the smile in her tone. He thought he'd better not push his luck too much—a delay in getting to the bedroom was not something that he wanted to provoke—and gracefully bowed out of the room.
Sooty scarpered the moment that the door was opened, and he took a moment to return the bowls to their rightful place in the kitchen. Anna was busy stacking dirty cutlery on the side. She beamed at him, and shooed him out of the room again like a mother hen with her chicks. He took a trip to the bathroom to wash his hands, then returned to the bedroom to begin peeling off the godawful costume.
He'd barely begun before Anna's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"John," she called from somewhere below him, "if the doorbell rings will you be a sweetheart and open it for me? I just thought I'd do some of this washing up."
"What parents would still allow their kids to be out at this time of night trick or treating?" John grumbled.
"Darling, it's nearly over. Then you won't have to worry about it for another whole year."
"All right, have it your way. I'll answer the door if I have to. As long as there are some sweets left. I'm not ducking an egg thrown at my head again."
Anna laughed. "Yes, there are some sweets left. I'll make it up to you somehow."
"That thing that I like?" he asked hopefully.
"If you play your cards right."
That left him feeling happier. Humming to himself, he resumed the peeling off of the tight costume. It was a relief to be out of it. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled on his pyjama bottoms but left his shirt off for the moment, relishing the cool air on his skin after the heat of the costume and the oppression of the party. He was just contemplating sneaking back downstairs and pulling Anna away from her insane obsession with tidying up the remnants of the party right now when the doorbell rang.
He froze in place. Bloody hell. Was God that cruel? Only street corner teenagers who were far too old to be begging for sweets would be out at this time terrorising the local community. He considered pretending that he'd been in the bathroom and hadn't heard it, but no doubt Anna would be irritated if he made her go out when she was in the middle of something. And then he definitely wouldn't get to experience that thing that he liked. He loitered for a couple of moments, but inevitably the thought of a naked Anna tipped the scales. Ignoring the twinge of hopeful arousal, he pulled a shirt over his head and took the stairs two at a time. The sooner this was over, the better.
"I've got it!" he called, before Anna could grouse about how long he was taking. Fumbling for the keys, he unlocked the door and grabbed for the bowl of assorted goodies. He took one more deep breath to brace himself against what was to come and pulled open the door.
"Trick or treat!"
The bowl slipped from his fingers in surprise. Sweets and chocolate exploded in every direction, and the bowl rolled sadly to a stop by the hall's wall.
"Anna!" John said, at a loss. "What are you doing!?"
His wife remained unfazed, and leaned against the door frame, her hip jutted in that sexy little way of hers. Her blue eyes were as smoky as her voice as she repeated, "Trick or treat?"
"I don't understand what's going on." John stumbled over his words, trying desperately to process the happenings of the last few moments.
"It's a good job I'm not with you for your brains then, isn't it?" she said with a roll of her eyes. She'd taken the time to remove the whiskers and blacked nose. "It's a simple question. Do you want a trick or a treat?"
John ran his eyes along her body, barely able to take his eyes off the form-fitting cat suit that had been driving him mad all evening. He had been fantasising about running his palm against the swell of her breast, watching her nipple pebble beneath the thin material. He wanted nothing more than to peel that costume off her, to reveal her flushed, naked skin underneath.
Swallowing hard, he said hoarsely. "Treat. Christ, treat."
She smirked devilishly. "Good choice, Mr. Bates."
And she kissed him right there on the doorstep, winding her arms around his shoulders and pressing her body flush to him. He stumbled and caught himself against the doorframe, grasping her hips and angling her towards him. He knew she'd be able to feel him stirring beneath his pyjama bottoms, and he groaned into her mouth as her tongue slipped out to tease at his bottom lip. If nosy old Mrs. Sullivan looked out of her window now she was likely to have a heart attack. The thought of the neighbours knowing just what a passionate, heated relationship they had only served to turn him on more; his hands slid lower to cup her peachy arse cheeks as he ravished her mouth with his. She made a sound in the back of her throat and pulled away from him, breathless and grinning.
"Enough of that on the doorstep, Mr. Bates," she said. "I'd rather not have Mr. Chirk see me naked on the front garden."
"He'd appreciate the view," John growled, moving to kiss her again. She braced her hands against his chest.
"I wouldn't appreciate it. Come on, inside. You chose treat, and that's exactly what you're going to get."
"I do like the sound of that," he admitted. He hooked his hands around her waist.
She squealed aloud when he swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold.
"That was amazing," John mumbled into her sweaty shoulder several minutes after they'd reached the pinnacle. Anna made a contented sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, snuggling back against him as he enveloped her in the circle of his arms. He spent his time kissing her shoulder and neck, breathing in the musk of sweat and perfume on her skin. This was perfection. This was all he'd ever wanted in life, to have his wife in his arms, feel her silky, bare skin brushing against his own. He was truly blessed to have found her, and even more blessed to know that she loved him as fiercely as he loved her.
"It was," she agreed.
"Made Halloween worth it."
"Then I'm glad that there's something that can make it worthwhile in your eyes."
"That could make anything seem worthwhile in my eyes," John murmured thickly, closing his eyes as he buried against her more firmly.
He could hear the smile in her voice as she ran her fingers along his forearm. "If I'm honest, I was trying to test you tonight."
"What?" At her words, John found that he suddenly wasn't quite as interested in the post-coital doze that he had been planning. Pushing himself up on his forearm and peering over her so that he could see her face in profile he prompted, "What do you mean?"
She giggled, rolling onto her back so that she could see him properly. "A test. I thought you might have noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"The outfit."
"I did notice the outfit," he growled at her. "Or didn't you notice the way that I was looking at you?"
"Oh, I noticed," she said, raising her eyebrow.
"Well then, what are you getting at?"
"Well…" Anna picked up his hand, running her fingers over his before linking them together. John snugged her closer, her hip touching his belly. "I wore that for a reason. I was hoping that you'd realise before everyone else turned up.
"Realise what!?"
"The Crawley girls knew at once."
"Knew what!?"
"I mean, I suppose you shouldn't feel too badly…Robert didn't notice a thing…"
"I suspect that had more to do with the outfit," John groused. "I saw him copping a look at you when he thought no one else was watching him."
"So he was taking notice of my other assets instead?" said Anna, tongue firmly in cheek.
"I'm certainly not chuffed about it. Robert's a married man, he shouldn't be ogling your arse and breasts, no matter how fantastic they looked in that cat suit."
"Don't worry, I'm a happily married woman. In fact, this is what this is all about."
John cocked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I'm still not following any of this."
Sighing, Anna pressed her lips to his cheek before sitting up. The quilt fell away from her, and he took a moment to admire the curve of her back, the way that her hair fell in a blonde shower down her spine. Then he pushed himself up on his elbows too, moving to sit beside her. She grabbed at his hand and twined their fingers together once more. He relished the press of her warm skin.
And, at last, she spoke, the words arrowing straight to the middle of his heart.
"I'm pregnant, John. We're going to have a baby."
It took several seconds for the words to register, but when they did he started to laugh in disbelief.
"Oh, my darling," he said. "Please tell me you're serious, and this isn't some Halloween trick."
"It's a treat, Mr. Bates. I found out the other day when I went for my check-up. I'm almost three months gone. I thought you might have noticed with the skin tight suit, but obviously you were more distracted by other things."
"I feel terrible for that now," he murmured, and it was true; how could he have been leering at his wife when she was glowing for the purest reason on earth?
Anna giggled, a beautiful tuneful sound. "I'm not going to get offended that you find me irresistibly attractive. I think you'd better make the most of it while you can. Soon I'll be as big as a house."
"And more beautiful than ever," he promised her, before moving his hand to her stomach. Now that he was properly looking at her, he could detect the slight swell beneath the covers, where she had been flat before. A baby. Their first baby. It was almost beyond comprehension. They hadn't been actively trying for a baby, but nor had they been preventing it from happening in the past year, deciding that it was time for their family to be extended. And they had finally managed it.
"I love you," said Anna, leaning her cheek against his shoulder as she brought her hand up to rest against hers on her stomach.
"I love you too," he murmured. "And I love this little one."
Smiling, she leaned in to kiss him, and he eased them back until they were lying on the mattress again, still wrapped in each other's arms. When they broke apart, Anna tucked her head under his chin, and he pressed her closer with a hand to the small of her back, breathing in the scent of her hair as the strains of the evening melted away.
Perhaps Halloween wasn't so bad after all.