My contribution for "First Kiss" prompt by the Servant's Hall

Downton was abuzz with excitement. As lord-lieutenant in this area of Yorkshire, Robert Crawley thought it would raise morale if they celebrated the send-off of the village lads and men, those who had signed up first to defend King and Country in this new war against Germany. It had only been two months since the Earl had made the announcement at the garden party and save for Thomas' immediate departure to the medical corps, nothing had happened until now. There had been proclamations and recruiters visiting, but no finite plans were announced; no dates given for when the first soldiers would be deployed. Now the date was upon them. The men were set to leave the next morning.

John Bates remembered the excitement and nervous energy of the night before heading to war. He had lived it and he recognized the same in the faces of the lads that had gathered around the platform where Lord Grantham was about to speak. John had heard his Lordship's tale that the previous Earl had prepared a send-off for the Boer soldiers, thus, he felt it only right that he did that for this new generation as well. As John surveyed the panorama, he could see that no expense had been spared. Most of these men would not come back. They would not see their wives, or sweethearts, mothers or children ever again. It was worth the money spent to have families share in this one last joyous night together. The Earl had done well.

The servants were expected to help, but allowances were made so that everybody could take part of the festivities. Most of the servants, were, after all from the village, nearby farms and clustered settlements that made up the Crawley's estate. Some were seeing loved ones off too, others not, but in a war; the country was in it together.

John's gaze had wandered off. The Earl had inaugurated the festivities, the band had started playing and people had found partners and started dancing. HE would rather not be here. It was not that he did not enjoy the festivities; it was the memories of war and his own experiences that would make it difficult to enjoy this evening.

There was only one thing that could make it better. Anna. He was looking for her. In the crowd of people, it would be difficult to spot her, her petite stature making it near impossible for her to stand out. After scanning the hordes of couples on the dance floor for at least ten minutes, he saw her, towards the farthest end, sharing a dance with one of the village boys. Her partner he recognized as a lad who had been a hall boy in Downton. He couldn't remember his name – maybe it was Franklin or Frederick or Filbert; something of the sort. The young man had left almost immediately after he arrived, having been selected to apprentice with the town blacksmith. For a moment, he felt jealous. He would rather she was dancing with him, that he was swaying with her. His leg would never allow it, so, it was nothing more than a daydream. He breathed in. He shouldn't be jealous. The lad was fairly young, and he guessed Anna's Junior by about nine years.

Although he could lay no claim to her, his heart yearned for her. Since the declaration of war, their partnership had strained. There was awkwardness between them. Neither knew how to move on after their Garden Party discussion. He figured she had finally been wise and realized that her dream of them together was futile and he just wanted to respect her. They were still friendly in public; they had no reason not to be. Their strain was not visible to anyone beyond them either.

If John were honest with himself, this distance between them had made some things clear for him. He had no right to her, while he was still legally bound to Vera, but, he would have to accept that he loved her - completely, foolishly and fervently. It had been quite apparent to him, though, that his life would never be the same. Even with his fervent love, he had no right to claim her, not even tell her. He would just console himself by staring at her, admiring her from a distance. IT was the only proper thing to do. Yet, even if she could not be with him, she still gave him the will to live and the desire to be a better man. She had made his life better by just being a part of it.

He was startled from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

"Mr. Bates, good afternoon. Nice to see you here. I didn't think they'd bring you, of all people, to help."

It was Molesley - the clumsy, but kind Valet. What he had said had been extremely rude, but, with him, one could never be upset. He was just too innocent to mean any harm.

"I'm here to detect and sort out those who have had too much to drink. I won't exert myself by standing about. Even I can do that." His comment was meant to sting at Mr. Molesley, but the other man didn't even notice.

They stood side by side as they had done once before. He didn't know what Molesley was looking at, but Mr. Bates had not moved his eyes from his target, the lovely Anna. She was laughing and smiling, happiness surrounding her. The throng of revelers on the dance floor made it easy for him to gaze uninterrupted, for if anybody chanced to look at him, it would seem he was just doing the task he had been assigned.

"Look, there's Anna." Molesley made it a point to stretch out his arm and gesture in the direction where she was dancing.

"Yes, there she is," he answered as stoically as possible. His pulse rate shot upwards at the mention of her name. Was it possible he was still sweet on her? Even after everything he had said? Mr. Bates thought he should have been over that foolishness long ago.

"She's dancing with a lad. Is he the one who is keen on her?"

His suspicions were confirmed and he did not like it one bit. His blood started to boil within him. He needed to stay calm.

"You know Anna. She's a kind heart. The young lad is going off to war. She's just dancing with him."

"Yes, so it seems… He's not the one, then?" He had turned to look at Mr. Bates, hoping to compel in him some pity and get the hopeful answer he wished to hear.

At the Valet's insistence, Mr. Bates' body tensed and he gripped the cane, willing himself to maintain his composure. Inexplicably, John huffed, annoyed at the question. Listening to Molesley's inquiries regarding Anna was more painful than the bullet that caused the injury to his knee. He shouldn't be upset, but he was. He tried to be civil and not give himself away. "No, he is not the one."

The moment he said it, he knew he had failed.

Oddly enough, Molesley figured it out. He could be quite dense, but he chose to hone his perceptive skills in the worst possible moment. The tone that Mr. Bates had employed in his answer, the tense muscles reflected in his jaw and the look of disdain all made him conclude the Mr. Bates, himself, was the one keen on her.

As the realization dawned on him, and perhaps not wanting to stir more trouble, he was very neutral in his response. "I see…. Well, whoever he is, he's quite the lucky man."

Several hours into the party, Anna came upon Mr. Bates standing guard at his post, a few meters from the entry into the Church's Courtyard. HE had not moved in the entire night.

His heart fluttered when he saw her approaching. She was radiant and very happy. She had danced with several partners that night, all soldiers off to war. Her hair was slightly messed from her activities, strands dislodged and floating in the breeze. It only made her look more beautiful to him. Besides dancing, she also helped with the refreshments, replenishing libations to those who needed them. He saw her table generously overloaded with thirsty patrons the entire time she was there. She had danced, but she had also worked hard.

He bowed his head, acknowledging her presence.

"Mrs. Hughes asked me to bring you some refreshment. She says you have been standing here, like a sentinel ever since the dance started." She handed him a tall glass of cool punch.

"She would be right." He smiled at her, and then took a sip. "I have a job to do."

"Well, I had a job to do, and I've done it, but I have also taken a moment to participate in the activities. You should do the same."

"Yes, I saw you dancing with the young men. That was kind of you." He couldn't respond to her suggestion that he should participate. Not being able to dance, there was not much he could do, but perform his task well.

She smiled at his acknowledgement. She shifted uncomfortably then, the result, he thought, of the strain between them. He was wrong.

"Can I ask you something, Mr. Bates?"

"Certainly."

"It's just…. I had the oddest conversation with Mr. Molesley at the refreshment stand. He's had a little too much to drink and I cannot make heads or tails of it."

Mr. Bates cringed. What could this man have possibly said to her?

"He said that I should tell you that he was very sorry. If he had understood sooner, he would not have insisted." Anna's face scrunched with confusion. "It was odd. Does it make sense to you?"

He did not know how to respond. He tried to play it cool.

"Yes, that is odd. I wouldn't know."

He had lied. He had never lied to her before. He had deflected her questions, answered her own questions with others, but he had never offered a falsehood. The truth weighed on him like the memory of his past life did. IT made him miserable. It made him feel unworthy of her. He couldn't become that man again. His was a slippery road and if he fell again, he would likely never find his way again. Damn that meddlesome man. She deserved the truth.

Anna noticed a change of mood come over him. He looked like he needed air.

"Mr. Bates, are you well? You look like you've had a spell of some sort." He looked at her with regret in his eyes, but she took it as confirmation of his being sick. In a moment, Anna considered that it wouldn't help him if others saw him like this. She should get him situated in a more private area until he felt better.

"Come Mr. Bates, there is a private bench along the opposite wall of the church. It is not far, but we can get you settled, privately. Others need not know you are not well."

He allowed himself be led to the private bench she mentioned. They sat closer together than he thought they ought. Her leg was touching his. It was not helping him think straight.

"There, are you better?" He face reflected concern.

"I am not ill, Anna." There was apprehension in his eyes.

"Then what happened?" She was still concerned, her gaze not shifting after his confession.

"It was remorse you saw. I regret I did not speak the truth." He saw her expression change. He wondered if he would make it through this conversation without having to explain himself fully.

"Remorse?...Whatever for?" She reached out for his hand, thinking she needed to provide additional comfort. Her touch made him feel worse. It also made him feel better. He was sinking farther into the abyss.

"I had never lied to you before, until you asked that question, and it hurt more than I expected. I am sorry for my false representation."

"What question do you mean?" She scanned her brain quickly to remember their last conversation and she knew it must have had to do with the bumbling valet. "Did you lie about Mr. Molesley?

"Yes."

"Well, I don't want you getting sick over it. So, tell me what you must and we can go back to your being well." She smiled at him, unaware of what he had done. Her hand massaged his knuckles and it reminded him of the last time they had been so close. Hey had almost kissed that time. There seemed to be no more strain between them. He wanted to kiss her now, but he wouldn't.

When he still didn't say anything, her shoulder budged into him to encourage him further. "Go on, tell me. It can't be that bad."

He started with a minimum truth. "He's interested in you. He's asked me if you have a suitor."

"Mr. Molesley, interested in me?" She looked perplexed. Although it should not have, that made him happy. She ought to consider him. He could not give her what she deserved and maybe Mr. Molesley could.

"He told you that?" she asked with trepidation.

He nodded.

"Bless him. It had never occurred to me." Her face reflected a stalwart compassion. She reflected for a moment and John thought she was weighing her options. Molesley was foolish, yet a good man. She could do better, but, If Anna fancied him, he would deal with it. He would encourage her.

"He's a good man, Anna." He said it as he looked away, facing the Church's stone wall. He couldn't bear to see her reaction if she was amenable to the match.

She looked up, dumbfounded. There was pain in her expression.

"Well, yes. He is a good man, but he is not the man for me." She squeezed his hand. He was encouraged by her words and her touch felt wonderful.

They remained quiet for several minutes.

"Why did you feel you have to lie? This revelation does not seem to warrant it, unless there something else that you've not told me?"

Anna was very perceptive and there was worry splashed across her face. She knew he was holding something back. She could read him perfectly. She leaned into him just a few inches.

"Why was he sorry, what did he understand and why should he not have insisted?"

He still couldn't say anything. The moon was illuminating her features. He could see her eyes open wide, confused, questioning his folly. He looked away. Why did he let this happen? How could he explain to her what he was not supposed to say? How could he tell her that Mr. Molesley finally understood that she belonged to him, when she did not belong to him at all? She might hate him, sever their ties for good, and punish him for implying situations that were clearly not possible. He would never survive that.

She squeezed his hand once again, then, in a surprise move, intertwined their fingers. This was too much. In the midst of his mental anguish, she was there, supporting him, calming him. IT only made him long to have her closer. Her actions only made it worse, as he felt he couldn't stay away. The warmth of her fingers was pulling him in, making him fall again. He needed her, like he needed air. He couldn't deny it anymore. She was inching into his life, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He was weak and he responded by clasping her fingers within his tighter. He brought his other hand to cover the half of her hand that was clasped with his, enveloping her entire hand within both of his. He felt her shiver.

He looked up at her once again and she was different. The confusion in her eyes had morphed into something else. He saw the same look she gave him often, that of clear devotion and love. He was sure his own gaze reflected the same. He didn't know if she finally understood, or if his hands upon hers had had a similar effect on her that it had with him. Whether she understood or not, the pressure to answer was gone.

She seemed to lean further in, just a few more inches.

"Mr. Bates? You needn't say anything. I understand." He hoped she did. He couldn't say anything.

"What do you understand?" Still, he had to know what she was thinking.

"I don't know what you said to him, but, I understand...I am taken."

Her other hand came up, clutching at his, which was still holding hers. This complete amalgamation of their hands, jostled together, was the start of their union. The electricity that pulsed through his veins continued on to hers at this juncture. Yet, something was missing. Her eyes implored him for an answer. They implored him for more than he was currently giving her. He would succumb. His ability to process reason was gone with her only inches from his face. He cursed inwardly at finding himself in this situation, a married man, with nothing but love to offer. She deserved more. He would find Vera and make this right. He would make it happen.

Answering her silent plea, he reached forward, closing the gap between them. He heard Anna's breath hitch when she realized he was actually going to kiss her. She didn't pull back. She wanted this, just as much as he did. As their lips touched, John was careful, barely ghosting his over hers, testing his resolve, testing her willingness. His confidence increased and he enveloped her lips completely and sweetly. The remained that way for only a few seconds. It was a chaste kiss, he wouldn't want to scare her, and his situation wouldn't allow for more.

They pulled apart, hands still clutched together. Her piercing blue eyes willed him to answer this last question.

"Am I taken, Mr. Bates?"

There was no more doubt. He wouldn't be able to live without her.

"Yes, you are.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Hope you liked!