Summary: The slow yet inevitable evolution from strangers to friends and from friends to the promise of something more.
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey or any of these characters, which is probably for the best.
A/N: So this is a story that's been sitting on my harddrive for a while, gathering dust as I return periodically to try and tweak it. Figured I'd go ahead and begin posting it as it is pretty much done and ready to make its own way in the world. Shouldn't be longer than 2-3 chapters. I began writing it as tracking and filling in parts of S1 but eventually it will bridge the gap between the end of S1 and beginning of S2. No spoilers past S2. No big angst.
I love reviews and they're always appreciated.
Anna Smith. The head housemaid.
She'd introduced herself by her first name, very matter-of-factly, even offering him her hand and a friendly smile. She showed no embarrassment as he moved his cane to the crook of his arm so he could accept the greeting properly.
Bates found out her last name later, overheard by someone talking in the servants' hall. Everyone referred to Anna with respect and deference, the sort that far outstripped her relative youth. In a house the size of Downton, such notoriety was especially impressive.
"So you fought in the Boers with Lord Grantham?" she asked after the Earl took the trouble to come down to the servants' hall and greet him. Her tone was friendly and curious, so he did not mind answering.
"Yes, I did. I was his Lordship's batman."
Anna smiled at him. "And what exactly does a batman do? Is that like a valet?"
"Think of it as sort of a servant and soldier. I was responsible for not only making sure he had what he needed, but also protecting him in the field. They would often target officers." He sighed. "Some considered it a cushy job, but it was quite an honor for me."
"His Lordship must have been very fond of you," Anna stated.
Bates inclined his head. "I cannot speak for him, of course, but I appreciate the opportunity he's given me now."
Their conversation was interrupted quickly, but it was not their last such exchange.
Bates quickly realized that Anna was indeed a very special person and the sort he wanted in his corner if he was to stay at Downton. But he learned how unique she truly was the night she brought him a tray of food in his room. Having just been let go before even having much opportunity to prove himself, Bates was at a low point that evening. With no where else to go and no one else to turn to, losing this last opportunity at a better life very nearly pulled him under a tide of depression.
Alone in his comfortable, private room, he cried tears of shame. His last hope for the future was being stripped away from him, and while he knew he had to accept his fate, he feared for his future. If the man who's life he'd saved incurring the injury to his leg could not see past it, how could he expect any other employer to do so?
And then Anna appeared. She called out to him, allowing him the time to compose himself. Offering the tray without any question whether he could handle it, she expressed her concern over his welfare.
And she was sorry he was going. She was likely the only one who felt that way, but she truly seemed unhappy that he was leaving.
Her words penetrated a heart he thought hardened by years in prison after so much of Vera's vitriol and hatred. He had believed that no one could ever touch him so deeply, not after what he'd been through. But here she'd managed it in so short a time.
Anna went on to request that he write to her, or else she would worry. He didn't want her to worry, truly, he didn't. Sadly, of all the people he'd known in the past few years, he had found more kindness from her in his brief time at Downton than from anyone else excepting his mother. He closed the door after thanking her for the food, not wanting to see that kindness turn to pity.
But Anna did not pity him. Her kindness was born of her own beautiful personality and her particular softness towards him was the fruit of a fast-growing affection even she did not understand. Once Lord Grantham had determined that he should stay on despite the protests of some of the others both downstairs and up, Anna made no secret of her support.
"And why shouldn't His Lordship have the valet he wants?" she'd asked aloud in the middle of the servants' hall, obviously not caring whose opinion she challenged. "Mister Bates has only just started here. Shouldn't he have an opportunity to prove his worth before he's thrown over?"
Thomas and O'Brien glowered at her, and Mr. Carson said nothing. Only Mrs. Hughes seemed to agree with her, nodding as she added, "Our lot is not to question such matters."
Mister Bates entered the room a moment later, not wanting to be caught in the hall listening to Anna's defense of him. She greeted him with a warm smile and inclined her head slightly towards the seat beside her. He took it even as he wondered if her kindness towards him might one day backfire on her and bring her vengeance from his growing list of enemies.
But Anna showed no care of such a worry as she engaged him in conversation during the evening meal. Later, when the lights had burned low and most everyone had gone up to bed, he found her at the table again doing some mending on a dress.
"You're up late," he noted.
Anna flashed him a smile as she looked up from her work. "Just have to fix this frock. It wasn't torn when I took it to the laundry, but it is now and I'm sure Lady Mary will want to wear it in the next few days."
"How do you think it was torn?" he asked.
Anna screwed her lips into an expression of sardonic amusement. "Oh, I'm sure it had a bit of help from unwitnessed hands. Probably a punishment intended for me when Lady Mary saw it. But I've been in this house far too long to let a bit of bullying get the best of me."
A chill crossed his skin as Bates understood what she meant. "You think Miss O'Brien did it to get back at you for defending me?" he asked.
She shrugged. "More likely her than Thomas. He wouldn't have known which broken seam would have gone unnoticed until the last moment."
"I'm sorry I've involved you in this," he lamented. "I don't want you getting into trouble for my sake."
With a snort, Anna returned, "I've involved myself. And besides, it wouldn't have mattered who took over as Lord Grantham's valet. Thomas wants the position for himself and he'll do anything to make a play for it."
"And what's Miss O'Brien's dog in the matter?"
Anna rolled her eyes and stated, "She likes stirring up trouble. I think she genuinely enjoys it. But she can also report back to Her Ladyship and seem quite the knowledgeable sort on happenings down here."
Sighing at the inside politics of it all, Bates asked, "Is there anything I can do to help you with the mending?"
Shaking her head, Anna tied off one last thread and held it up. The torn seam barely showed at all. "It's finished now," she declared triumphantly. Standing from the table, she smiled down at Bates. "I'm so glad you're staying on," she said, sounding a tad nervous at the level of emotion her voice betrayed.
"So am I," he responded. He stood to face her.
"It is nice to have good people around to counter the likes of Thomas and Miss O'Brien."
"I'm not sure if I can be counted as a good person, but I'll do my best," he offered gently.
"I don't know you very well, Mister Bates, but I consider myself a good judge of character. And my gut tells me that you are a very good man." For a moment, he could not respond to the utter surety of her tone, and before he could think of a reply, she said, "Good night, Mister Bates."
She disappeared out of the room and he was left to stare after her.
As was bound to happen, after several months working at Downton, someone made a joke about how much time Bates spent in the company of the head housemaid. He overheard Gwen repeat it to Anna one day mid-morning as the two took their tea in the servants' hall on the other side of the table from him.
"They say you're sweet on him," Gwen whispered in the other woman's ear, obviously unaware how easily her voice carried over the short distance. Anna glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Hoping to defray this particular rumor, Bates decided to jump in.
"You shouldn't repeat such things," he quietly warned the younger maid. Gwen nearly jumped, her eyes widening as she realized he'd heard her.
"Oh, I didn't mean to imply-"
Cutting her off, he said strongly, "Anna and I are just friends. Besides, I'm old enough to be her father."
Snorting at his response, the blonde maid shook her head at him in irritated amusement. "That's not true."
Suddenly his mind went blank at her denial. Which part wasn't true? The part about them being just friends or-
"You're not old enough to be my father," she clarified, glancing from him back to Gwen.
"How old are you?" Gwen boldly inquired of him.
"That isn't polite to ask," the other woman scolded.
"But how are we to know otherwise?"
"Well, my age is no secret," Anna said blandly.
"It is a secret to me," Bates answered. While Anna held the maturity of a woman twice her natural age, her features were so young that she could easily be less than twenty and he'd be none the wiser.
"I'm twenty-six," she informed him, throwing propriety to the side. "And you may do the calculations, Mister Bates, and tell us the difference only if you wish."
"Fifteen years," he offered quickly.
Anna smiled at him triumphantly. "See, that settles it." Looking back at Gwen, she declared, "He may be old enough to be your father but certainly not mine. Not in any civilized country, at least."
The younger woman blushed furiously at having been pulled into the comparison. She quickly changed the subject, turning their conversation to some other bit of inconsequential gossip. A bit later, Gwen made a quiet exit, leaving he and Anna alone at the table together.
Bates risked a glance at the housemaid and as he did so, he allowed his thoughts to linger on her. Anna was a classic beauty, the kind of woman who might be overlooked in a crowd but stood out the more one observed her. Her features were delicate, skin as pale as fine china. And those eyes...
Realizing that his growing feelings for Anna were decidedly not familial, he forced himself to look away from her. He had no business entertaining such a notion. Even excepting his past, the age difference between them was enough to make any thoughts of a relationship with her impossible. She belonged with a younger man, someone who could till a field or wait at table.
"I'm sorry if we embarrassed you," Anna said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. She gave him a bashful smile. "Gwen sometimes speaks out of turn, and I'm not much better."
"You have nothing to apologize for," he told her. "I interrupted your conversation."
"To quash the scurrilous rumor that I might be sweet on you," she teased, not bothering to hide her grin.
"You should be careful of such rumors, Anna," he warned seriously. "They can do you much more harm than you might imagine."
He left her then, unable to face what she might say in response.
She did not turn in Mr. Carson for stealing food. Bates felt certain the notion never even entered her mind, just as it would not have entered his own had he witnessed the scene Anna had told him about.
But he had trouble concentrating on Mr. Carson's mysterious fruit pilfering when he found Anna alone in the servants' hall. The rest of the servants were down in the village to see some traveling salesman.
He joked, "Alone at last," thinking only of how much he preferred Anna's company to that of the others. Every conversation with her left him oddly fulfilled and at the same time, wanting more. Her sweet voice was like a dessert that one never grew tired of tasting, no matter how much one could get of it.
But he realized at seeing her dazed expression how his comment might sound and quickly returned to business, noting the danger of being without both footmen. She assured him quickly that they would return, leaving him in mind that she was likely in charge in Mrs. Hughes' absence. Bates knew the housekeeper relied heavily on Anna, even more so than Miss O'Brien or even Thomas. He wondered if there was an unspoken understanding that Anna would follow in the footsteps of Mrs. Hughes.
"So, you see to the girls and you're supposed to be head housemaid," he remarked conversationally. "You should put in for a raise."
"What do you mean, 'supposed to be'?" she asked with mock indignation. He smiled at the good-natured reproach even as she followed it with a laugh.
The moment was broken by the door-bell of course, and Bates' concern about being without both the butler and footmen was realized. They dealt with the situation well enough between them, trying as well as they could to shield Mr. Carson's reputation. But in the end, the truth came out. Although Bates recognized the butler's mortification at having his past revealed, he did not believe the man had anything of which to be ashamed.
Unlike Bates himself.
The situation highlighted to him how precarious his position was within the house. Not only could he lose his job if he did not keep up with the work, but if anyone ever found out about his past...
And Anna. Dear, sweet, noble Anna. She told him that anything she found out about him would not change her opinion. But he knew it would. And for the first time in a very long time, he genuinely cared what another person thought of him. Her friendship had grown so precious to him, he could not fathom what he would do if he ever lost it.
TBC