A/N: As it's April, I wanted to mark Anna and John's anniversary :) (I've written about Valentines', birthdays, Christmases and New Years, but never about their anniversary, which I think is the most important date). I have used Kristen APA's A/B timeline, which puts their wedding day as April 18th, 1919, and this story is set in April 1929.
Title and some references taken from a song by The Script, which doesn't completely fit with DA times but is one of the sweetest things I've heard.
Nothing about Downton Abbey belongs to me.
Never Seen Anything Quite Like You
As was usual for this hour of the day, both Anna's hands and her head were full to the brim. She had woken the baby from her nap not twenty minutes ago, soothing with gentle sways and soft hums, and had escaped out of that peaceful world that belonged to mother and child instead to fret that the kitchen stood a fair chance of catching alight if she didn't get to plating dinner within the next few moments.
Her steps hurried into the modest dining area with the intention of rousing the attention of her eldest child.
"Olivia, sweetheart, I need to set the table. You can draw a little more before bed."
She had to smile at the sight before her, the cherubic face of their first daughter shining as her still stubby fingers scratched against the sheet of paper held beneath her other hand. Olivia looked up at her mother with a happy grin, carefully placing down the crayon she had been wielding and presenting her latest piece of artwork proudly aloft.
Anna's eyes were fond and teeming with warmth, meeting those that mirrored her own to the exact shade. She was inordinately pleased that Olivia had inherited John's colouring in her soft hair, as well as the same few strands that would curl against rhyme or reason.
"Mummy, look!" Olivia exclaimed, rearing her little body up against the wooden chair, deemed big enough now by her parents at three and a half years old to sit in one that matched their own seats.
The little girl almost burst with joy as her mother took up the drawing into her hand, smiling at the likeness it presented, or at the least was supposed to represent, Olivia's squiggles not quite honed as yet.
"Oh, my clever girl," Anna hardly had to exaggerate her pride, "it's beautiful."
She studied the paper with the same conscientiousness as she did every one of her daughter's etchings, dotted as they were around the house and some even taking up residence in the reception of the hotel, making their guests smile, perhaps not with quite the same amount of delight but certainly with approval. The figure was clearly legible, yellow arcs signalling her hair, two blue dots for eyes and a pink smudge for her mouth.
Anna quirked her lips curiously as her gaze scanned down, rather impressed at the long triangle that stood for a dress. It had been coloured in swirls of patterns, decorated with all kinds of trims. It certainly resembled nothing like any of the items in her wardrobe, and she wondered happily at their daughter's capacity for imagination.
"Pwetty dress," Olivia piped up from beneath her gaze.
"It is indeed," Anna said in affirmation. "You've made me look as fine as Lady Mary, my angel."
She continued to pour at the drawing, dandling baby Sophia upon her hip, getting heavier as she was with each day that passed. She let out a squeal, pointing eagerly at her sister's efforts, chirruping at Anna until she received a kiss on her chubby and warm cheek.
"I love it, even if it is wishful thinking," Anna sighed towards the saucer eyes of her eldest, placing the paper onto the side beneath a stray book that John had left lying about. Olivia had already put all of her crayons back into their box when she turned back around and Anna rewarded her daughter with a wide and gracious smile, helping her jump from the chair with her little hand held tightly within her own. "Now, you be a big and very important girl and look after your sister while Mummy gets everything ready."
Olivia held out her arms eagerly while Anna settled Sophia propped against the cushions of the settee, catching and kissing a tiny fist as it flailed into the air. Her mother's heart warmed greater than ever when she noticed how good Olivia was being, cautious to care for the baby so properly, patting her hand against the cheek that was smaller than her own and smoothing out the wrinkles in the baby-gro with gentle fingers. Assured that everything was at hand, she turned towards the kitchen to see to the dinner, the audible sound of a pan rattling on the stove accompanying her on her way.
"Daddy drawing," Olivia's shout rose above the noises that came from the adjoining room.
"Yes, you can show Daddy your drawing when he gets home," Anna responded, "he shouldn't be too long now."
The grin plastered upon her little face made Anna half-smile and half wonder what on earth her eldest was up to as she came back into the sitting room, tea-towel held at her hips and her hair frazzled around her temples, making her resemble a Cinderella who had been banished from the ball.
"Daddy told me to," Olivia affirmed in a less confident voice, the smile still scrunching her features. "Pwetty dress, he said very pwetty."
The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, and Anna shook her head in a bit of disbelief. John Bates, you cheeky beggar was one of the more eloquent thoughts running through her mind.
Two pairs of eyes darted towards her, jolly and slightly anxious.
"Did I do good, Mummy?"
Anna's face melted in a smile towards her eldest's question.
"You did very good, sweetie," she replied, her heart soaring at the smile that had returned to her daughter, moving to tuck her chestnut hair back behind her ears. "Your father on the other hand has some explaining to do."
"Don't be cross with me, love," John sighed, his gaze doleful as it went towards where Anna was sat up in bed, pillow lengthways at the headboard supporting her back. The occasions were quite rare enough and usually to do with the fact that he couldn't get to their daughters before the house erupted into wails when they both decided to get upset about something at the same time, but it didn't make him any less sorry for being responsible for the sour mood.
He offered her a considered smile beneath pleading brows, the crinkles that edged the corners of his eyes telling how heartfelt he really was, though the very sight of her made him smile in just the same way. "You know I'm a weak man, and I can't bear it."
"I'm not cross," Anna contended, her voice growing softer though her eyes still flared a little. There was little doubt it was partly out of poorly concealed desire, unable to keep herself from staring as his paw hands slowly pulled the braces down from his shoulders, leaving his top half clad in undershirt alone. She brought herself out of her reverie, though it was difficult indeed, especially when he was focused upon her so intently, inching closer towards the bed whilst he unbuttoned his belt and trousers. "I just don't see why you couldn't just tell me. Our daughter has been taught to tell the truth, we of all people shouldn't be leading her astray."
John's lips quirked into a half-admonished grin. "I'll take the blame for that, and it won't happen again, I promise."
His bulk settled down upon the covers next to her, and Anna never failed to be surprised at how much she relished having him so close by, trying not to dwell upon the many nights she hadn't had the warmth of his arms to comfort her and the pleasure of waking up to his handsome and smiling face. Thankfully those times were well behind them now, but she still sent up silent prayers full of grace for every night that had come to follow, disturbed by cries of little ones or peacefully settled.
"You should have seen her little face, though," his smile turned dewy, and she had to adore the fact that he was so ruled by every care and whim displayed by their two small ones, both of his hands clearly wrapped around their tiny fingers. Anna half-wondered how he would cope if they were ever surprised by another arrival. "She got so excited about it. I couldn't deny her."
"And I suppose that's what you'll use to persuade me into going," she teased lightly, making his expression set into a sheepish glance.
Her stomach was already churning a little, thinking that she could do without the fuss. She had a fair idea that he was planning a surprise or two for their tenth anniversary and she certainly couldn't complain about having a husband who was such a romantic. The date was approaching at speed, and he had already been rather lax in his hurrying between the house and the hotel, the receipt of the dinner reservations left in plain sight upon the kitchen table. He'd whispered sincere apologies into her ear for the fact that she should have come across it, his mouth quick to form kisses down her neck which made her sing with pure delight.
That would have been enough of a treat by itself. This announcement of a new dress was an extravagance too far, she considered, especially given that it would not be bought from what was on display but was to be fashioned especially for her. They might both enjoy the end results, but really, it was beside the point when they were busy balancing the books of a small but increasingly strained business and had two additional mouths to feed and bodies to clothe. She'd rather spend what money they had to spare on making the girls look pretty, although she did take John's argument that they didn't exactly go short for garments into account. He'd looked so pleased when he'd explained the lengths he'd gone to, and she simply couldn't chase such a beautiful smile from her husband's face. He only ever thought of her and ensuring her happiness, and it was one of the countless reasons that she loved him so.
She needn't pick up the notecard on the cabinet to recall the details.
"Spencer's," she recited the name of the boutique that she had only ever passed by, peeking into the wonderfully-dressed window for a stolen moment or two between dashing from the grocers to the bakers. "It's so expensive, John. I feel like I'm stealing, somehow."
He tutted softly, pressing a kiss onto her hand as it rested upon the duvet. "All of those years you spent dressing others in that finery. You more than deserve some of it for yourself."
Anna felt her cheeks burnish a light shade. Looking into his eyes that offered a reminder of autumn with their shades amidst the budding spring, she knew with the depth of her heart that he loved her just the same without such luxury. Not that she'd ever really had the opportunity before. She was hardly downtrodden in their quite comfortable lifestyle, but she was assured that her husband would find her just as desirable if she were to be clothed in rags for the rest of their days together.
"You don't need to spoil me," she told him in a quiet voice, entwining their fingers and feeling her pulse speed at the touch of his slightly roughened palm stroking against hers, his loving gaze lingering over her.
"I don't need to, but I want to," came his reply, a slow smile spreading across his lips and reaching upward. Throughout the years, Anna never tired of the sensations such smiles evoked in her, igniting just the same spark as those long-gone times when she would happily spend all day coaxing him to let his guard down. There came a couple more feathery kisses against the curve between her finger and thumb. "Save for the girls, you are the most special one in my life and I wish I could honour you every second of the day. God knows you look beautiful all the time, but I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are to me."
He made her blush and flutter more than she ever did as a teenage housemaid.
"I always feel beautiful when I'm with you, Mr Bates."
The impish note in her tone was well matched to the way in which she guided his hand past the covers that separated them, laughing as she beheld his irises light upon the touch of her skin. Her other hand went to cup the expanse of his cheek, lightly bristled, humming in happiness when his stubble brushed against her as they shared a tender kiss, lips having missed each other for too long.
She smiled with bright eyes when their embrace came to a slow end, the thought that occurred to her suddenly causing her to giggle.
"I'm quite sure they don't get many husbands going inside there very often," she noted quite happily and proudly, knowing her husband was the exception to every outdated rule. "I hope you didn't feel too awkward."
His long fingers danced at his throat, adjusting an invisible tie that had long since been removed. "It's not all that different from being in a tailors or milliners, really. Perhaps other men would feel like a fish out of water, but I rather enjoyed revisiting those streets for a little while."
Anna huffed at the air that was about him, noticing below that how the lobes of his ears had reddened and his brow was tensed ever so slightly.
"Besides," he cleared his throat, "I do believe that they keep the...delicate...items below the counter, out of view."
She couldn't help but collapse into giggles against their bed, pulling him down into her arms and against her mouth where he was more than happy to settle for a good while.
The sound of a bell tinkled above her head as she took a tentative step inside the shop. The door clicked with a shut behind her, and all at once she was immersed, feeling as small and curious as if she was Alice who had entered through the looking glass into Wonderland.
There were several scents in the air, all rich and sumptuous, settling at the back of her throat. Every imaginable shade and sheen of colour draped in rolls upon the walls with a cavalcade of trinket drawers edged in gold lying fixed closed beneath, containing God only knew what.
She fiddled with the straps of her plain black purse in fumbling hands, stopping herself from placing one of her gloved palms upon the counter when she approached it.
"Good morning," she greeted politely. "Mrs..."
"Mrs Bates?" the assistant finished for her, smiling up from the neatly-etched book that lay out in front. "It's lovely to see you. You're right on time."
Anna smiled a little awkwardly, her gaze craning round to follow the woman's movement out from behind the counter. "I try my best, though with two small children it doesn't always go as planned."
There was a bit of a silence, though not uncomfortable, as her coat was slipped from her shoulders, leaving her in her grey-blue jacket and skirt, ivory blouse underneath. For some reason she'd seen fit to pick out her Sunday best for the occasion.
"If you'd like to follow me to the fitting room and I'll take your measurements," the woman said brightly, clutching a clipboard and measuring tape in both hands. "Then we can get onto the exciting part: choosing the material."
Anna matched the assistant's long strides as best she could with her more petite frame, pursing her lips as she removed her hat. It was rather funny how this all seemed so foreign to her now, when it wasn't all that long ago that she was accompanying Lady Mary to dress fittings across Yorkshire. Then again she had always been the one standing patiently outside the fitting room, ready on call if any hooks or buttons put up a fight. The roles had never been reversed, and as she got down to her undergarments she felt herself shrinking, a rash of heat crossing her collarbone.
It took less time than she had expected and before long she was left to her own devices, rifling with cautious fingers through the masses of different fabrics that were on offer. To say she was overwhelmed was an understatement. She wondered however on earth Lady Mary ever came to a decision, though she did recall that sometimes it would take quite a few hours. Standing here with so much choice at her hands – most of what she saw the kind of thing she had never encountered in her life – it was really as though she had entered into another world where she was out of place completely.
In truth, though she had had a glimpse inside through the eyes of another, it was never a world that she wanted to belong to for any longer period of time. She had grown up in such deprivation that she found it rather grand to be given more than one housemaid's dress when she started at Downton. Of course she marvelled at the elegant and beautiful costumes that the ladies wore, wishing that one day in some rare dream she may be permitted to try one on, if just for a few minutes. Those kind of fancies disappeared quickly when she settled into work and she often laughed at her younger self for daring to think such things. She knew her place, and if she was honest she would have felt clumsy and uncomfortable dressing up like that.
Lady Mary was kind enough to pass down some of her outfits when they went out of the highest fashion, including one quite fancy formal dress, although by her former mistress's standards it wasn't particularly extravagant. Once she had left service and the Abbey, those privileges were gone and it was back to fashioning her own garments as well as patching up sturdy and familiar favourites. She had lost count of the times she had taken a needle and thread to some, and John would aim several smiles at her from the fireside while she crouched over her sewing machine, running seams that had been torn by smaller hands angling for her attention and comforting touch near as good as new. When it came to making something up for herself her main priority was being practical, with no ties or embellishments that could cause any risk to her little ones, who were far more precious than any finely-made dress standing upon a mannequin.
A few tears pricked at her eyes for no reason that she could understand, and for a brief moment or two it was all she could do not to make a dash out of the shop's doors, too embarrassed to even wander up to the same side of the village ever again. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself, and behind them she found the reason to keep her feet grounded. A smile spread evenly across her lips, her cheeks flushing to see John standing tall in front of her, his mouth open just a little and his eyes full of adoration, looking at her from head to toe, the gown flowing around her feet. He'd walk over to her so slowly, as though if he got too close he might spoil the effect. She'd giggle softly as he took up her hand to kiss, murmuring his love against her skin, her hearing every word and feeling every careful caress with every fibre of her, knowing it most of all when he swept her into his arms, capturing her lips with the gentility that would always surprise her from a man of his form.
"Have you come to a conclusion, Mrs Bates?" the assistant's voice broke through her daydream, though it stayed vividly in her mind as she looked at the roll of fabric her hands had stayed upon.
She smiled confidently, bobbing her head towards the very same material.
Even though the assistant agreed heartily that she had made a perfect choice, it was not her opinion that she had in mind.
The dress was considerably more comfortable upon her now, though perhaps it was the fact of being in her own domain. She had done the very best she could but the last few buttons, placed in an awkward spot, proved impossible. It was rather disappointing that the effect she had wanted wasn't to be achieved but the feeling of John's fingers brushing faintly against the least bit of her bare skin whilst he fixed the remaining fastens into place was not to be grumbled about. Little currents of electricity ran over her in his wake, one of his hands slipping to hover by her waist, not wanting to disturb the virgin fabric.
"Do you reckon I come up to standard as a lady's maid, then?" he rasped, the quite serious pitch of his voice belying the absurdity of the question.
"I'd say that you're doing a fairly good job," Anna smiled, tangling her fingers with his and gently inching his aimless palm to sit just above her stomach. She stopped herself from bursting out with giggles as he tickled against the nape of her neck where her hair was pinned up from, determined to keep a demeanour that was befitting the finery she wore. When the sweep of his fingertips were substituted by the warm and rather insistent press of his lips, time suspended and her breath found no escape route.
He was tender and soft, as he mostly was with her, and everything within her simultaneously stilled to know nothing but him, so wonderful and kind and passionate – her saviour – and fluttered wild with a growing urge and velocity that was always so powerful to all of her senses.
Another moment that bound them closer, ties stronger than steel. The simplest of touches, really, but it was enough of an affirmation for the both of them.
Anna released a happy sigh as John's nose nudged against her, silent whispers dancing upon goosepimpled skin. She enjoyed the rapid thrum of her heart in her chest, even with the snug boning of the dress's corset moulded about her.
"I'm not quite sure that would be permitted, though," she commented, turning her head slightly and catching the breath of his building laughter.
She closed her eyes and smiled against the singular kiss edged at the curve of her shoulder, feeling cool at his absence when he stepped away. It was likely that she would not get another chance to dress for the first time in a gown quite so elegant and custom-made for her, so she was careful to savour every second while the novelty lasted.
Her smile was instant when she met John's gaze, tempered a little upon the tears that were welling in his eyes. She was relieved to be familiar with them, the last time they had appeared having been in the joyful and once again life-changing moment when Sophia was placed into his arms at minutes old. However there was something different again at their presence, something deep and so taken by wonder that Anna shivered from head to toe the longer she looked upon him. He was wearing a newer suit of his, one that she had helped to pick out purposely by its lighter shade, thinking him even more handsome when he was no longer obliged to wear such a severe black.
"Say something," she urged him softly, her eyes still connected with his. "It looks quite different, I know."
She had gone for a shade of blue, quite a bit darker than what she had been used to of her clothes of late. Quite dissimilar from anything she'd ever owned, really. There was a hint of silver in the fabric, visible if the light fell in a certain way upon her. The colour seemed to compliment her, making her eyes brighten especially. She just hoped that it was what John might have had in mind when he arranged all this in the first place.
He saw the sky minutes before it was to turn to midnight, painted with a shimmer of stars, entrancing any eyes that gazed upon them. Her hair bringing a reminder of the golden sunlight that would shine eternally upon her, blinding him in the most pleasant way. She had starlight in her eyes, clothed in the shade of night that made him think of being wrapped in her arms, softness balming his rough edges, kisses given and received gladly and with such happiness that would never be lost, not ever again.
"Anna May Bates," he said her name like the first words he had learnt, "I am truly blessed, like no other man living or departed long before."
His beaming smile spoke for him, the stunning vision before his gaze reflected in the changing colours of his eyes and making his heart sing several great symphonies.
"You've never changed," he uttered, simply, straight from the heart. "So very beautiful."
She didn't falter; she couldn't when she was looking at him, their souls slotted together in a glance that lingered almost to eternity. She had, maybe not to his eyes or with the words they didn't need to acknowledge aloud any more. Somehow – she knew how after quite a while – it no longer mattered. She had grown into herself, comfortable in the skin that had been broken at the seams, helped to heal by his loving hands always there to support her, to touch her with reverence in the shelter of their room or to simply let her know he remained, right by her side as she had always dreamed and needed.
She still smiled to him, a smile that told of such comfort and love not needing to be spoken, her hands smoothing down to the softly billowing skirt.
"I'm not sure whether I need a shawl," she tilted her head towards the garment neatly folded and lying to the foot of the bed. "It's warm enough out."
"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," he replied after giving her enough pause.
Anna's heart lifted even higher, taking her husband's hand into hers and getting onto her tiptoes to kiss his freshly-shaven cheek. Her insides tightened as she was granted a sweet memory of their wedding night, welcome sensations coming back to meet her at the contact of her lips with his skin, a perfect parallel to what had been then.
A further came when they departed the room, him trailing the stairs behind her though their joined hands kept them steady.
"Get ready, girls," John's voice boomed before they entered the parlour, making Anna stifle her laughter against her palm. "Your mother is the most wonderful sight anyone can behold."
He shuffled to one side to usher her through, little gasps echoing upon the air when she appeared.
"Mrs Bates, you look ever so well," Florence, the Connors' eldest from next door, answered politely as she held a squirming Sophia in the grasp of her arms, little hands reaching past and a gummy grin lighting rosy cheeks, signalling the cheerful approval of their baby girl.
"That's very kind, thank you, Florence," Anna replied graciously.
Her eyes lowered to the small height of her eldest, blue eyes peeking as heels kicked against the bottom of the settee. Olivia straightened up on meeting her mother's gaze, her mouth held open in a gawp. In any other circumstance Anna would have chided her carefully for such a showing, but she didn't have the heart tonight.
"Cinderella!" she squealed excitedly, her arms raising into the air and jumping onto her toes. "Mummy, you like Cinderella!"
Out of the corner of her eye Anna could glimpse John's smile, melting at the sight of his wife and daughter both so happy.
"Bless you, my sweet-pea," she caught Olivia's flailing hands, crouching to place a kiss against her hair. "I'll be careful not to leave my glass slipper behind, if you promise that you'll both be very good while Daddy and I are away." The smallest of tears pricked at her eyes, which she held back with a quiet sniff. "We won't be long."
She replicated the gentle mother's kiss upon their head of their youngest, making sure all was just right with them both while John's hand stayed reliably upon her back. They were able to leave before the light left the evening, Anna blowing kisses to their daughters and both her and John catching the ones aimed back at them with open hands in the doorway, smiles in their hearts and upon their faces.
Alone at last, before they stepped out to enjoy the evening that was ahead of them, John nestled close to Anna, whispering words that made her feel as though she was whirling against the air.
"You do look so marvellous."
It seemed like it should have been long after midnight when they returned home, full with good food and laughter, but in truth it wasn't much after ten. Anna hadn't realised how tired a night out would make her, though she was more than revived by John's adoring looks, revelling in them as she had all through the night.
They bundled into the hallway, Anna giggling at John's efforts to keep his steps as stealthy as possible. She wasn't able to resist the look he gave her when he turned on his heels, letting herself be guided flush to his chest. She marvelled for not near enough time at his broadness, the security she always felt in his arms, and then their lips had met in a hurry, too eager after being able to share only the briefest of encounters since they had left some hours before. Their cheeks flushed red when the forgotten Florence breezed out to find them, and with gazes cast down from all three, John gave the girl their thanks in the form of words and a few notes. Anna beamed a smile, finding herself far too enamoured with the half-shamed expression written upon his face, his hair having been loosened by her enthused fingertips.
Having looked in on their two sleeping angels, lost to a world of dreams, Anna occupied her own fancies, clutching the prettily-decorated card John had slipped towards her after their meal. He had made her promise not to open it until they had got back, a bashfulness creeping upon his countenance as he looked towards her. She loved that appearance of his with all of her heart and soul too.
Tears of pure happiness gathered in her throat as she read his inscription for what must have been the thousandth time in the space of but a minute or two.
'I want you more than want; I need you more than need. And I love you more now than all our days that have gone before. These promises I pledge for as long as time is able to know itself.'
She curled her fingers over the kisses he had written, the gold of her simple wedding band resting in its rightful place. Two years ago he'd had the inside engraved as a present and a reaffirmation of their vows, and she had mourned to be without it, even though it had only taken but a day for the message to be carved. Twenty four hours seemed nothing to all that they had endured. She had made sure it had never left her hand since, not even when her fingers had swollen painfully during the time when she carried their second child.
So much had crossed her mind throughout the evening, past the great love she felt for her husband. The husband that had been hers in the most formal sense for a decade, but whose heart had belonged to her for long before, just the same as hers always had been in his possession.
She remembered being held in the cool night air many evenings in the courtyard, a kiss upon her temple and hopes shared. Walking back with him once their days were done to the cottage that was theirs to rest by the fire in each other's embraces. Sneaking off like secret lovers once more when they should have known better, hiding their smiles in kisses as he kept her well guised in his quarters far away from home. Her feet had ached from reeling, but she had no care when he swept her up in a swift movement. Quicksilver and light, he had affirmed with warm and knowing eyes, threading kisses into her skin that soothed and roused her in equal measure.
Light was sometimes no match for darkness. The nights she had spent lost and alone, longing to know more than the love that kindled in her heart. A time in the wilderness ended when she collapsed crying against his chest, surprised she didn't shatter against the tender touch he circled about her. The trembling and uncertainty she learnt to live with, never about his love but to the depths it might have reached.
Even through the worst of it, even in the times when they couldn't speak for fear of being drowned by silence, they knew each other. By every look, every breath and heartbeat. Such faith and understanding had carried them to the wonderful afternoon when they had made their eternal promises, and it had got them through everything since. There wasn't always peace, things weren't always perfect. They made their way just the same as everyone else in the world.
When she turned around to find his face, the first few seconds making her heart skip out of time just as reliably as any other occasion, Anna swore that she knew him better now than ever.
Their love was stronger, not in spite of the tests of time, but because of it.
She smiled as he came nearer, his feet bare and his collar loose and unbuttoned with the absence of his tie. A million thoughts rifled through her mind, not half of them innocent.
"Thank God this wasn't a year ago," she quipped, reaching for his hand, happy when their palms slid together. "I wouldn't have even been able to look at this kind of thing without feeling fed up."
John's lips settled into a curve, thinking of how his wife's petite figure had been swollen, seven months pregnant with their sweet Sophia. Another anniversary before then and they hadn't long found out that they were to be parents for their first time, wondering whether they were living in a dream when the doctor gave them the news together.
"I think I rather liked you in that nightgown. Especially as you wore it for most hours of the day," he said cheekily, and then his eyes grew much softer.
His other hand spanned her waist while he swayed her on her feet, turning them in slow semi-circles upon the floor in their own little dance. Anna looked up into John's eyes, lost for words but not needing to say anything when she could feel everything most wonderfully.
"Ten years," he uttered softly, mirroring the smile she wore. "Sometimes it feels just like yesterday."
She bobbed her head, seeing him there in that brown suit, and later half-dressed in his valet's gear, standing before her in that secret room. Hers for a night, to be returned several times over, more perfect each time.
She no longer measured her life in carefully counted seconds, hours or days, but in the love that surrounded her. There was so much of it that sometimes she didn't know where to begin.
"Here's to the next ten years," she affirmed, "and many, many more. My Mr Bates."
John punctuated her vow with a grin, not flinching when she reached to brush the errant lock of hair from his forehead. Her hand caressed his cheek and smiled long into his eyes for what felt like forever, her true self so well nurtured by the love he never failed to give her shining out and unable to be contained.
Searching looks gave way to touches, falling easily into kisses, slow and soft and then soon picking up the pace, passion making itself known between husband and wife as familiar and new and enthralling as ever. Anna came alive at the feel of John's hands, everywhere against her. It was when they stayed stretched over her back for too long, fumbling and with false starts, that she realised what the matter was, smiling against his mouth as it moved with hers.
The dress might have proved quite the treat for them both, but now it was just a hindrance.
"Don't start there," she managed to say, already craving more of his kisses, though they had the whole night ahead of them.
John's eyes were met with the fire in her own as she moved his hands down, helping him to gather the gown's trailing length upwards, ever so slowly.
Her smile was wide at the pause he gave, discovering the surprise she had kept in store in much consideration. She shifted a little, giving her husband full access to the new silk and lace garter adorning her thigh.
"I might have asked while I was there about the more...delicate things too," she trilled, feeling John's fingers inching closer over her skin and pleading with herself not to surrender. "Better than a gift of tin, I thought."
His silence spoke volumes, matched by his gaze when he found hers again. Still cradling her thigh, he pulled her to him, making her yelp and sigh loudly as her body pressed to his. She had an idea that one or two of the buttons from the dress may have fallen away and even that there might be a small tear at the waist. His apologetic look was quickly extinguished when she beamed at him.
"Much better," he smiled, kissing her softly. "Happy anniversary, my love."
Before love took over both of their senses she wished him the same, with the honest truth also given that it was the happiest she had recalled.
A/N: Excuse the somewhat rushed ending...had to publish it on time!
I know that I keep using several different names for potential Baby Bateses, but at least I have stuck to the timeline with this one (or at least what I like to think will happen after S5 CS...).
Also the reference to tin is there because something made of that is the gift traditionally given on a tenth wedding anniversary. Anna and John definitely made better choices.