Chapter 1: 1912-1915

A/N: So I had first started this fic in 2012, before I ever decided to publish DA fic online. I had wanted to write a fic about Christmas 1918, but then was inspired by other fics to write about all the Christmases and then some. In some cases, I also included the servants' ball that following January. I had written the sections out of order for the most part, which is why some years are more fleshed out than others, and some are more vignette style. I started to dust this off and retool it last year, but then I didn't have time, and then my Secret Santa RealForUs did a similar approach (it is a popular theme!), be sure to check her fic out! Mine does still seem a little clunky at times (I clearly hadn't quite honed in my skills writing these characters yet, and I didn't have much time to edit them further and I've decided to no longer stress over it). This revamp of course now includes the later years, and I've chosen to divide it into chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

1912

The staff of Downton Abbey began their trek upstairs that Christmas morning. Anna Smith hung back and waited for Mr Bates, who she knew would want to be last in order not to slow anyone down. "It's tradition that we receive our gifts from the family, and then have our luncheon while they exchange their own presents," she had explained. Quite different from other households, but the Crawleys appreciated their employees and wanted them to be able to celebrate too.

The servants stood in somewhat of a line as they were called up to receive their gifts. John Bates was relieved that they didn't have to stand in order of rank, because it meant that he got to stand next to Anna rather than Miss O'Brien. While he thought that maybe the staff was finally warming up to him, he felt that the lady's maid and her partner in crime, Thomas, never would.

Anna was the staff member that he was closest to, and the one that he could definitely call a friend. While Mrs Hughes had been the one to help him with his "fixing himself" incident, she still was very much his superior, even if a housekeeper didn't oversee a valet. Anna, though, was the one who set him at ease and made him feel more like he belonged at Downton Abbey. Loyal, kind, sweet Anna.

He watched her be called up and receive a bolt of cloth from her ladyship. Lady Mary smiled and wished her a happy Christmas. He was too busy watching that he almost didn't hear his own name called. Lord Grantham beckoned him over and gave him a few articles of clothing from his own wardrobe—convenient that the men were about the same height—and also a nice leather bound book.

Christmas Luncheon came and went, and John noticed that the servants did not seem to exchange gifts among themselves. Maybe they did so in private. But John assumed that many probably did not want to spend money on others, instead sending every penny home. He'd send his mother some but he knew she was too proud to take it from him. Vera crossed his mind for a brief second, but he shook all thoughts of her away.

He caught himself watching Anna again. He knew in passing that she didn't have many family members herself, but it seemed to be something she didn't really like to talk about. She joyous today, grinning and laughing with Gwen as William struck up a tune on the piano.

He half wondered if he should have gotten her something small, as token of their friendship. But then the thought of Vera crept back; he couldn't very well take up with Anna, for various reasons...

And besides, Anna didn't give him anything. He shouldn't mistake her kindness for anything more, she was kind to everyone. She was just a really good friend, and that's how things were going to stay.

...

New Year's brought more Downton traditions. On the eve, the staff gathered a midnight and all had a glass of wine. Typically, only Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes ever drank at dinner, with Mrs Patmore imbibing from time to time.

At midnight, John simply sat the glass down, hoping no one would notice that he didn't drink any of it. He glanced at Anna, and saw that she had only taken a sip of hers and then discarded it as well. He highly doubted that she didn't finish her wine for the same reasons as him. He had managed to avoid being presented with drink since he got here. While he was no longer tempted to consume it, he did not want to have to turn it down in front of anyone, afraid of having to explain himself. He did not want to reveal his drunkard past, not when he was finally gaining Mr Carson's trust and respect. And while Anna claimed she wouldn't care, he knew that she certainly would.

Everyone cheered in the New Year, excited. Anna caught John's eye and smiled. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but noticed he kept glancing at her.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just happy that I have made it into the new year. And that I'm still here." He gave her a half smile.

"I daresay that I'm happy you're still here too." She beamed.

The week after New Year's was the servants' ball, a dance held at Downton Abbey where the family and staff mingled together. Lord Grantham asked John if he was up for it, as the earl's valet was supposed to dance the first dance with her ladyship. However, he told his comrade that his leg felt too bad and that it was best they didn't try it. He didn't tell him that he would never dance at any of these, as it was too painful to manage dancing without looking like a fool. Limping across the floor would be too ungraceful. And the fear of his leg seizing while dancing with the countess was too great. If he dropped her, then that would be for sure the end of his days there this time. Besides, he wasn't all that great of a dancer even before his injury…

He sat off to the side, as the others twirled around the great hall turned ballroom. He watched Anna, smiling, dance with William, giving him a tinge of jealously. She headed over after the song finished, face flushed.

"Are you doing alright, Mr Bates? I'm so sorry you have to sit out."

"It's no problem. Gives me an excuse."

She sat down in the chair next to him. "I'm not very good myself," she replied, "You saw me out there."

"I thought you did splendidly."

She smirked but then looked down. It was hard to tell if she was blushing with her face already redder than usual.

They sat together for awhile, until Mr Crawley asked Anna to dance. John watched her intently. She had been too hard on herself, she danced just fine. Very fine indeed.

1913

It was evening, and just John and Anna were left in the servants' hall. Neither had been called yet to attend to their respective family members. The clock ticked loudly in the silence between.

Finally Anna reached underneath the dress she was mending and produced a package. She took a deep breath, getting his attention. "Happy Christmas, Mr Bates."

He began to take the package from her, but then stopped. Her heart stopped along with him. He was refusing this, just has he refused her declaration of love. She had wanted to get him something regardless, though. Even if he couldn't admit his feelings for her, he was still her closest friend.

"Wait here one moment, I have something for you too." John got up from the table and walked as quickly as his leg would allow him, out of the room towards the stairs. After a few minutes, he returned with his own package in hand. "Happy Christmas, Anna."

Opening the gifts, they saw that they both had gotten each other books, and both had managed not to get the one that the other had read before.

"Thank you so much," she said grinning from ear to ear.

"And thank you," he said returning the smile. It was the least he could do. Even though he could not voice his affections properly, he could still show that he cared, even if it was just a gift on Christmas. He enjoyed seeing her face light up, but he knew deep down, that at some point he was going to have to give her up. She deserved better than him, and with no idea where Vera was, he could not promise her anything more.

...

"Anna, please, go dance," John implored.

"Why? We both know that he should be dancing with Daisy."

He watched William's retreating back head towards the kitchen maid, and then swiftly turn towards Gwen instead. "He can't dance every dance with Daisy, though."

"Well I can't have you sitting here alone all evening." Truthfully, Anna wildly preferred to sit there with him.

"Don't sacrifice your fun by sitting here with me." He lowered his voice, "I'm fine watching you dance, you know."

She gave him a look. "I don't suppose I could convince you to attempt. You could just sway."

"I daren't."

It would be an opportunity to hold Anna in his arms. But she wanted more than that, and more than he could offer.

1914

"Thought I'd find you down here."

Anna looked up from her book. "I've been waiting for you, actually. We haven't exchanged gifts yet."

John looked around, checking to see if they were alone. He'd suggest going into the courtyard, in order to insure that, but it was too cold. "No we haven't." He half smiled and sat next to her, with an odd shaped package in hand. "It's not much, but…"

She grinned and traded presents with him. His gift to her yielded various sewing supplies—a new set of hand needles, a pincushion, a thimble. She found this amusing because her gift to him was a set of handkerchiefs she embroidered herself. She had kept it simple with just his initials, but hoped it wasn't too forward. Their relationship was still undefined. They were close friends, but they also were beyond that. They had almost kissed that fateful night in May, almost a year after Anna's initial confession. That had not been attempted again; both a bit afraid to try to go that far, but there had been the occasional tactile moments over the last few months. Anna lightly touched his arm when she admitted that she was happy he wouldn't have to go to war on account of his leg; John had patted her on the shoulder when she learned that a childhood friend had passed.

They thanked each other warmly and politely, but then he reached out and gently took her hand in his, thumb running over her fingers. She began to return the gesture, but then he suddenly let go and turned away. Anna thought maybe he heard Thomas or Miss O'Brien approaching, but there was no one. She sighed, she didn't care that he heard the sound escape her. At least let her have this.

The war had cast pallor over the year's festivities. The servants' ball was not held and everyone was feeling anxious as they ushered in the New Year.

1915

Festivities were still stifled the next year, the war still raging on. Most of the staff sat quietly through luncheon, wondering if this would be the last Christmas they were all together. Even though William's father wouldn't let in enlist, he could be called up any day now.

The day in the courtyard was too brisk, but they had agreed to meet at the bench outside. Trying not to shiver, Anna opened her gift from him—a leather bound copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion and Northanger Abbey.

"Another book, I'm afraid," John commented, degrading his own choice of present for her.

"Oh no, I love Austen, and I love having my own copies or books, means I can reread them as often as I like. And this is such a lovely edition…" she ran her fingers down the cover.

He opened the small and long box she gave him. A very nice pen, and more expensive that he deserved.

"I've seen you wear your pencils down to nubs so." She smiled.

"It's too nice, thank you."

She leaned close to him, her voice low. "And thank you." Her lips brushed his cheek.

He was stunned at first, surprised that this type of affection had finally occurred. But before he could react, she had pulled away. She did take his hands hers though, grasping them with a gentle squeeze. It was best to leave it at that, however. Over and over again he had thought about trying to seek out Vera, but he wasn't even sure where to begin.

And Anna…. She deserved much better than this. Or so he thought.