A/N: A prompt from Im-yours-for-life in which John bakes a cake for Anna. I deviated from her original prompt a bit, but I think this will still prove to have all the makings of a fluffy little fic :). Please review.

John went over the list one last time that had been written in Mrs. Patmore's hand, mentally checking checking each item as he removed it from the cupboard of their tiny kitchen. "Eggs, water, sugar, flour, and vanilla. Looks like I have everything I need," he said to himself. While John was not a stranger to cooking, it would be his first time trying his hand at baking a cake. Mrs. Patmore had offered to do it for him, having been the one to make all of Anna's birthday cakes in the past. But this was the first time they would get to celebrate Anna's birthday as a married couple while he wasn't confined begins bars. He wanted to do it all himself, ensuring that Anna's birthday was a memorable one. He had already gone into the village to select her gift weeks before in a catalog and it had arrived in the pay worth time to spare. Now all that was left was to create the perfect confectionery treat for his wife with the undeniable sweet tooth. Thankfully, Lady Mary was helping him to keep Anna occupied so that she would not have time to make it up to the cottage for lunch; allowing him just enough time to bake the cake and clean up the kitchen afterwards.

John promptly set to work and mixed all the ingredients together in the large mixing bowl, poured it into a pan, and set it in the oven. As the sweet aroma filled the tiny cottage he set about cleaning all the utensils and bowls he had pulled out. He swept up the floor and wiped down the table. John glanced at the clock to gage the time and removed the present he had purchased from the highest shelf in the upstairs closet. He set it out on the table and placed two candlestick holders on the table along with a tiny vase of wildflowers. John nodded in approval as his eyes scanned the room for anything that might be out of place. It seemed he was running ahead of schedule, he popped open the oven once to make sure the cake was not burning and guessed that he would have just enough time to wash himself up.

He filled the basin and pulled out the soap and a washcloth, removed his undershirt and began to wipe himself down across his chest, under his arms, and around the back of his neck. He heard the creak of the front door to the cottage followed by the familiar sound of her footsteps up the stairs. When she entered the bedroom a surprised "oh" escape his wife's lips. John froze in place with his chest still exposed to the cool air. He heard Anna suck in a deep breath as she promptly shut the door to their room.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," she said with wide eyes. She was taking in his appearance from head to toe, her eyes nearly burning a hole through every feature they lingered on. His broad torso and chest were still work bragging about even to men half his age, they were covered in thick, dark hair; reminding her off some animal she might have stumbled upon on the wild. His long limbs seemed to take on a life of their own as each individual muscle of his large arms twitched, his hands rough from years of hard labor, and leg scared from battle. John hated it, but she thought he wore it like a badge of honor having fought for King and country. And then there was his face, which was so serious to the outside world but lit up like a Christmas tree whenever she walked into a room. His eyes teeming with excitement, his brows softening under her gaze, and the crinkles around his eyes extending like the rays of the sun. Anna never had to second guess herself about how her husband regarded her, for it was written as clear as day across his face when a smile played across his face that he only reserved for her. Though she had seen him in a state of undress before it was rare that she would have enough time to simply admire him without the impulse to touch him taking over her senses. What she wouldn't give for more time spent barricaded away in their tiny cottage together.

Anna crossed the room quietly and slowly, wanting to savor the moment. If this was some sort of dream, she surely did not wish to wake from it. "What are you up to?" she asked in a playful tone. John smiled, recognizing his own words from the trip to Duneagle a few months before.

"Just washing up...for you," he said in a hushed tone. But no matter how soft he tried to make his voice the roughness of it was still evident and sent shivers down her spine.

"Really?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

John nodded his head in agreement, still locked in her trance, helplessly holding onto the washcloth over the basin. Anna was now standing mere inches from his face and without looking down retrieved the wash cloth from his hand. He willingly let it go and let his fingers drift down to her waist as he guided her closer to him. A few traces of water had pooled at the base of his chin, forming one large drop that threatened to fall from the bits of stubble that had crept up since his morning shave. Anna wiped it away and said, "I'll have to tell Lord Grantham that his valet has been shirking his cleaning duties."

"What makes you say that?" he inquired.

Anna looked at her husband with complete adoration as she focused on the smudge of flour that had gone untouched on the tip of his nose. It reminded her of the time he had gotten paint on himself when they had first painted the cottage together. "This," Anna said as she turned him to face his reflection in the mirror.

"Well I wasn't done yet," he excused.

"No. No you weren't," she said as her chest heaved up and down beneath her Lady's maid uniform. Her breath quickening at the prospect of being home with her husband in such a state and in the middle of the day no less. The last time they had been able to make love in the middle of the day was when they had been given three days off after his release from prison. And while she was forever grateful for those three days, it was not nearly enough to make up for their time spent apart.

"Anna, are you alright? You look flushed," John noted as he placed a hand to her cheeks and forehead.

"I'm...I'm…" she may have been his wife for well over a year, but she was still gaining her courage when it came to initiating marital acts behind closed doors. She licked her lips in eager anticipation and felt her throat close up as she swallowed her words.

"What is it my darling? You can tell me anything," he said with such kind eyes that it threatened to break her heart in two. How was it that her husband could still find it in himself to be so understanding after all the horrible hands life had dealt him?

"Ummm."

"Anna?"

She finally pushed the nerves aside that were preventing her from tasting her husband a second longer. Anna took him by surprise as she threw her arms around his neck and nearly knocked him off balance with the force of her lips as they crashed into his own. The wash cloth was all but forgotten as he enveloped her in his arms and accepted the weight of her. Even with his bad leg he managed to pick up her tiny frame and carried it over to the bed, his mouth breaking into an easy smile as he collapsed on top of her. Their cozy room swiftly filled with giggles and soft moans as they read one anothers bodies like braille. Allowing their hands to map out and memorize every peak and crevasse of the work of art that lay before them.

When they were sated but exhausted from their exertions they slowly drifted back to earth. Only to be reminded that a piece of heaven existed on earth within the walls of their happy home. John rolled away from her and let out a content sigh. "Well, that was certainly unexpected. And what may I ask prompted such a surge of lust for your beloved husband?" John asked while letting his hand settle just below her navel.

"Does your wife need a reason?" she countered. The sun still burned brightly outside the window that overlooked their small yard and it cast a golden tint across her petite body.

"I suppose not. But the odds would be forever in your favor if I were to know so that I might be able to recreate the magical moment that allowed me to seduce you," John said with a chuckle as he nipped at her ear.

"Well if you must know, you looked incredible handsome with a touch of flour on the tip of your nose," Anna replied as she kissed his lips. John shot her a confused look; momentarily forgetting what he had been working on prior to Anna coming home. "What were you cooking?" she asked curiously.

"Oh God!" John exclaimed as he shot out of bed stark naked and headed down the stairs.

"John, your clothes!" she called after him.

Anna traipsed down the stairs with a sheet cinched over her breasts with one hand and John's robe in the other. She turned the corner, still standing on the last step and peaked into the kitchen, "John?"

"Please don't come around the corner, I'm thoroughly embarrassed right now by my appearance and the way I left you in bed," he said.

"I have your robe," she said.

"Toss it here please," he said shyly.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," she argued in a playful tone.

"Please," he begged. A moment later he saw his robe slide across the floor and quickly covered himself up.

"Are you decent now?" she asked a second later.

"Yes, but I'm afraid your surprise is ruined," John said as he emerged from the kitchen with what she could only assume had meant to be a cake.

Anna didn't have to feign happiness or a smile as she looked at the large, disfigured mass covered in chocolate icing. The burnt edges were visible from where she stood and John's face only fell further the longer he looked at it. "Is that for me?" she asked.

"It was supposed to be a birthday cake," he said unable to meet her eyes. His shoulders slumped forward as he let out a heavy sigh. "You sort of took me by surprise...and...I'm so sorry. I wanted it to be a memorable birthday for you," he said sadly.

"Who says it wasn't memorable?" she replied with a glint in her eye. "The only other person that ever made me a birthday cake was Mrs. Patmore. I've never had a man cook for me. Certainly not one that I loved and had just shared a bed with," she said trying to soothe his ego. "I love chocolate and maybe it's only burnt on the outside," Anna remained optimistic.

Her words lifted his heart and brought a smile to his face. "Alright, have a seat and I will grab some candles and a knife," he insisted.

She took a seat on the dining chair still clad in her bed sheets looking like a queen sat on her throne. John cut into the cake and was relieved to see the inside of the cake was not ruined. He placed a large slice on his mother's finest china and set it before Anna with two forks. He lit the candle and told her to close her eyes. He sat across from her in his robe with his elbow resting on the table as his hand propped up his chin. He had never known such happiness was possible until he had met Anna. "Go on, make a wish," he suggested.

Anna sat quietly for a moment with her lips pressed into a gentle smile before blowing out the candle. Without hesitation she dug into the cake and smiled back at him. "It's perfect," she said.

"You don't have to eat it. I wouldn't blame you if you tossed that entire thing in the trash," he commented. John smiled when she looked back at him with a tiny glob of chocolate icing fixed to the corner of her mouth.

"This is my cake and you will do no such thing," she chided him. She pulled the plate closer to herself to prevent him from acting on his words.

He leaned forward and wiped it away with his thumb and placed a kiss there for good measure. It was moments like these that he had dreamed of while lying in prison night after night, or in the solitude of his room down the hall in the attics of Downton. Now here he was, sat across the table from his lovely wife in her purest form while she was barely covered by a sheet from their bed.

Anna looked down when John's hand reached across the table to touch hers. He was so at ease sitting in his navy blue robe with his chest hairs peeking out of the top and his pomade free hair looking windswept from the love making. John brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles while his fingers rotated her wedding band back and forth. "Happy Birthday, my darling. May you have many," kiss. "Many," kiss. "More."

"I certainly hope so. But only if all of them are like this," she replied with longing in her eyes.