Title: Quiet
Pairing: Anna/Bates, if you squint
Rating: All ages
Summary: Anna finds a moment of quiet. Set in early S1.
It was hard to find a quiet moment in the day. There was always something more that needed to be done, something that needed to be cleaned or dusted or moved or changed or anything else that might happen to fall into the category of "maid's work". From morning till night, she didn't stop moving and generally she was content with that. She was content with her life, with her position, with the money she sent home to her family to help them. They were all proud of her, to have risen to the position she had and to have the prospects to move further if she worked hard enough and stayed out of scandal.
It didn't leave much time for quiet, but she'd found it. She'd gone to the library to dust and air the room while Lord Grantham was in his study, and she'd begun doing so, but then she'd stopped at the window. When she looked out, she saw a small rabbit with several even smaller babies, all nibbling at the greens outside. They had a hard life, rabbits, and often they were on Mrs. Patmore's table at the end of it, but watching this rabbit and its babies was a moment of peace for them and for her, and her hand stilled on the draperies as she watched them.
She stood there, motionless, trying not to startle them, until she heard a tapping sound behind her and turned smoothly to put a finger to her lips. Mr. Bates looked at her a bit quizzically, but he did as she'd asked and moved more silently as he carefully made his way to the window behind her to see what had attracted her attention and drawn her away from her work. He stood exactly as far away as he should, and she smiled out at the rabbits. He was an honorable man, Mr. Bates, and she quite liked him so far as she knew him.
They stood there, watching the rabbits, until one of the dogs barked and the entire family scattered in a blink. It broke the spell for her, too, and she turned back to the library to continue her tasks. The shelves wouldn't dust themselves, after all, as Mrs. Hughes was fond of reminding the maids.
"Did you need something, Mr. Bates?" she asked him as she glanced up, moving past him to start dusting the mantel as if she hadn't just wasted ten minutes of her day watching rabbits.
"His Lordship requested that I find his copy of Kipling. He thought he might have left it here last night after dinner. Have you seen it?" he asked, and she appreciated that he hadn't asked why she'd been looking out the window instead of working. It wasn't likely that he would, really, she'd learned that already, but she was still glad that she hadn't had to explain it.
"Oh, it's over there," she replied easily, and pointed to an end table she'd already dusted.
He nodded in thanks and gathered the volume, then turned to take his leave. He was almost to the door when she spoke again.
"Mr. Bates," she started, and wasn't sure how to continue. How was she to request that he not tell Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes that she'd been shirking? If it had been Thomas or Miss O'Brien who'd caught her, they'd surely tell, and she'd have an uncomfortable conversation ahead of her. He seemed to know what she'd been thinking, somehow, and he smiled, which made his eyes crinkle up in a way that she very much liked.
"We all need a bit of quiet in the day," was all he said, but it was enough, and she smiled at him as he continued out the door.
A bit of quiet in the day with a quiet man. She couldn't ask much more than that.