This is my response to the "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words" Fic Challenge on Tumblr. The challenge: write a banana one-shot pertaining to the random photo displayed. Challenge #2: The Fan. Hope you enjoy. This one is kicking it back to the pre-war, pre-flower show days :)
Thanks for the eyes, mr-and-mrs-bates.
"I say, Bates, have you found my lighter suits yet?"
"Not yet, Milord. I plan on heading to the attics today to begin packing," the valet answered while adjusting Lord Grantham's collar for the morning.
"I daresay it's shaping up to be a hot season. It'd be a terrible imposition to be in town without them." Preparations were being made for the Crawley's upcoming summer visit to London. Bates had fully intended to begin the process of seeking out His Lordship's summer attire that day, but was dreading the toll it would have on his leg. An able-bodied man would have little trouble navigating the staircases and hauling the heavy traveling trunks, but he wasn't considered an "able-bodied" man by conventional standards. Yet, as always, his determination won out, and as he was always quick to remind everyone else that he could "manage," he had to tell himself as well.
"I quite agree, Milord. It'll be sorted in no time. Will you require anything else?"
"No, no, thank you, Bates."
Mr. Bates had been hoping to run into Anna at some point during the day. It was nearing time for tea and he was looking forward to the chance to simply sit and have a few moments of peace to sit and speak quietly with her. Her bright and sunny disposition was always a balm for him and he would admit to himself that he very much preferred her company to all others. Making his way into the servant's hall, he could find no trace of her.
"Well, that's unusual," he thought to himself. "She's never one to be late for tea."
In truth, he was disappointed and disheartened. Chatter struck up here and there around the long table. From time to time he would chime in, but never for long. By nature, he wasn't a social person; but he found that with Anna by his side, it was easier and even enjoyable to insinuate himself into conversations. She eased his way, it seemed.
From his first day at Downton, she had always made him feel welcome, valued and included. In fact, she was his champion in many ways—always supporting and defending him, though, he reckoned, it was just her personality. As per the norm, his thought took a brooding turn,
"Of course, she's just being friendly, Bates. Don't be ridiculous. Why would it be anything more than that?"
He would confess he was feeling extra weary today. If he was honest with himself, though, he would also admit that it wasn't just the fact he knew the manual labor he'd be embarking on in packing for His Lordship: the sorting, rifling, mending, hauling and the like; but that he was severely lacking in his daily dose of sunshine in the form of his favorite housemaid.
Lumbering up to the attics, Mr. Bates heaved a sigh and surveyed. He was sure Lord Grantham's summer wardrobe had been kept in the area furthest to his left.
"Then again, you''ll never know for sure if you just stand about like a lump."
That was when he heard it. He wasn't alone as he thought he was. He may have caused the floorboards to creak, but certainly not while he was standing stock still. Straining his ears in the directions of the sounds, he thought he could discern the rustling of fabric as well.
"Is that humming?"
Now, his interest was piqued. Feeling mischievous, he placed his cane down softly on the nearest trunk and shuffled quietly towards the origin of the sounds. Moving deeper into the storage area, the volume of humming increased.
"Well, you're on to something now," he thought as he peeked around a tall, free-standing closet.
Smiling from his hidden alcove, he knew he wasn't discovered yet. He was riveted by the scene before him.
"I've been seeking her everywhere I went today, and the one place I most wanted to avoid is where you've found her…"
There, in a small area cloistered by dresses and trunks, racks and closets, was Anna. It was as if he was transported to a fairy-land for a moment. She, a nymph, dancing about and beguiling all who lay eyes on her. In reality, she never looked more free, spritely or whimsical twirling about and humming some nameless tune to herself. In her hand was a fan of ivory and lace embellished with mother of pearl inlays and delicate embroidery. If she were to have a magic wand, this fan would suit her perfectly. He was utterly captivated by her.
"Look at her. As free as a bird. As light and carefree as she should be. She doesn't belong cooped up in this place. She is a being of quicksilver and light. If only I could take her from here; she would thrive. She would thrive? With you? Are you mad, John Bates? You're married. You could never take her anywhere. That shrew of a wife still has her hooks in you even though she abandoned you long ago. Would you even know where to find her? Face reality and settle yourself in knowing that you'll never be rid of her or the horrible memories of life with her. Even if you were free, what do you have to offer any woman, let alone THIS woman. This woman…" He sighed, "She is perfection. She is youthful and joy incarnate. What would she want with a man like you anyway? An invalid, anti-social, brooding, married ex-convict. She deserves someone young and whole. Someone who could support her and give her all the things she dreams of and more. But….it can't hurt to dream…can it? Is it wrong to wish and long for a different life? It couldn't hurt to befriend her… would it hurt to admire this angelic woman from a distance? After all, she wouldn't want you anyway…even if you were free."
In all his state, he began to lean too heavily on a nearby table and it lurched to the side scraping against the floor in the process. In that moment, the spell was broken. She spun around in a flash to see him, her face revealing her shock and embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't hear you come in, Mister Bates," she gasped. Blushing deeply, she continued in a rush to try to conceal her guilt, "I was hoping to see you earlier. I thought we could've come up to prepare our packing together, but it seems you've found me…" taking a breath, she blurted out in self-condemnation, "I shouldn't have been so careless. If Mrs. Hughes had found me, or, heaven forbid, Miss O'Brien, there'd be hell to pay, I'm sure…" she trailed off as she looked up to find him chuckling with nothing but pure amusement dancing in his eyes. She smiled and softly laughed, then, realizing the absurdity of the situation he found her in.
"Is this something you do often, Miss Smith? I must admit, you put on a fine show. Would be a shame to keep it all to yourself," he laughed.
"No, Mister Bates," she answered, stretching out her vowels in the process, "I just got a little carried away is all. I confess, I've always admired this particular fan. It's so fine. I could never have anything like it myself, not me…but I always take a moment to appreciate it when I get the chance. The girls only use it but rarely and only when traveling. It just seems silly to have something so beautiful tucked away in packing without ever having the chance to be on display…let alone serving any real purpose….Oh, I'm just being silly."
"Not at all. I daresay the same could be said of more than just the fan being a beautiful thing hidden away from public viewing." He looked at her meaningfully as he spoke and she felt the knot beginning to form in her throat.
"This infuriating man. He's doing it again. Does he even realize what he does to me? Why is it that we always seem to be saying more to each other than the words actually mean on the surface? If he means to tie my heart in knots, he's certainly proficient."
He took a step towards her and reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair that had come loose behind her ear. She felt her breath catch as she looked into his eyes and they paused in that moment.
"Does he feel what I feel? Does he quake inside when we're together like this? I'm almost positive that it's longing I see behind his eyes. I know that feeling well—ever since he arrived. Why is he holding back?"
He was paralyzed. He knew what he had done. He knew what he had said, and, more so, he knew what he had meant by it. He was mortified.
"How dare you take such liberties. You don't deserve to touch her. Now you know: it can hurt to dream. You've gotten carried away, you fool. What will she think of you now? She'll think you a cad."
Clearing his throat, he drew himself up to his full height and stepped back. She looked at him, confounded by his sudden change in demeanor.
"I was looking for a particular set of suits for His Lordship, could you help me sort through them?"
Staring blankly at him for a couple a breaths, she shook her head a gazed down at the fan still in her hands.
"Of course, Mr. Bates, I'd be happy to."
She replaced the fan in the open trunk, sighing, and turned to follow him.
A/N: This was a little bittersweet for me. Keeping in mind the timeframe in question, I had to keep reminding myself that she doesn't know any of his history/baggage yet. They're still in that frustrating-as-heck stage where they speak in code about their feelings.