A/N: I won't lie: I've written this simply to indulge myself. I started this weeks ago, and I'm thinking it'll be a 3-5 chapters kind of story. I'm not sure when I'm updating again – I'll try to make it weekly – that is, if you enjoy this first chapter, of course! I'd love to know what you think of this. Spoilers for Series 3. This is supposed to be set around two or three months after the 2012 Christmas Special. Special thanks to my wonderful editor Terrie, who managed to edit this tonight when I decided I'd post it this weekend. :) Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.
"There is such a special sweetness in being able to participate in creation." Pamela S. Nadav
Anna sighed happily as she entered their cottage, glad to finally be home for the evening. She had been very much relieved when Lady Mary called for her so early, saying she wasn't in the mood for a late night, and Anna had been released from her duties much sooner than usual. She appreciated the extra free time; it was amazing how it was short, nowadays. There was always so much to be done, at Downton Abbey, at their cottage, that any free time Anna had was spent making sure their home was settled, nice and tidy, so that they could sleep peacefully in the hope that the next day would find them a small moment of joy.
Those moments, however, were hardly rare, though. They managed to be together for the most part of the day – mending, sewing, having tea and meals together – and sometimes they'd even lurk in the servants' courtyard to catch a little moment alone before going up to see to their duties. It was different from before, for now they were married and people wouldn't question their alone time, but, in some ways, it was just like before, except that now the moments were even more precious. Even working so hard and still working to make the cottage their home, Anna was sure and confident she had never been so happy, and, judging by John's easy smiles, he felt the same.
She was making tea when she heard the front door opening and John's quiet half-step. They generally walked back home together, but since Anna had been ready much earlier than usual, he insisted that she went on ahead, and Anna appreciated the gesture. The past few weeks were harder than usual on her. Now living in the cottage for ten months, there were still things to fix and make it look like it was theirs. Though it was their home, as it would always be for Anna now that John was there by her side every day, they hadn't had many possessions when they moved, and slowly, week by week, their personal belongings, old and new, found their way to the cottage. They had been lucky enough to be graced with electricity and working plumbing, though those two installations bothered them from time to time, in particular their bedroom's lighting and the kitchen sink. Anna couldn't really complain, she figured, but lately she had been much too tired to see it as normal and had even snapped at John once or twice for not having fixed it properly the first time.
Poor John, Anna thought as she heard him approaching the kitchen. He had been a saint that day, merely keeping silent and letting it go, only to hear to her apologies with grace and laugh at her impatience. She could never love someone as much as she loved him.
The kitchen door opened and Anna turned in her spot to look at her husband, his jacket long forgotten, with a soft smile on his face.
"And there's the darling wife," John said, approaching her and kissing her forehead lovingly.
"I thought I'd make us some tea," Anna said, turning back to the stove, smiling as John didn't seem to want to pull away, settling behind her with his hands on her waist and his cheek against her hair. "You took your time."
"His lordship was in a rather talkative mood this evening," he told her as she laced her fingers with his, "and I had a few mendings I wanted to be done with today. So maybe tomorrow night we can have a little bit of a spare time to ourselves."
Anna grinned, looking up at him, "I'm looking forward to it."
He caught her lips in a soft, lingering kiss and pulled away, sitting by the table, all the while watching her as she took the teapot away, working around the kitchen and grabbing two cups, as she knew he'd want some tea too. It had been their tradition, since those early days at Downton Abbey, when they were merely friends, maybe still just acquaintances, when they'd stay up until almost everyone had retired for the night and share stories, news and conversations over a cup of tea. She doubted their tradition would ever be broken, especially now when they both weren't going anywhere.
"You seem to be feeling better tonight," he started hesitantly as she set the cups on the table.
Anna smiled, "That's because I feel better."
"I was thinking that maybe you should have that checked out. Just in case," John said slowly, "I can't help but worry that this might not be just a simple flu. There are many possibilities."
Anna gave him a pointed look, her hands resting on her waist. Of course he'd say such a thing; she knew what he was thinking – what both of them were thinking – but she didn't want to get her, or John's, hopes up. It was a fact that she had been sick every day for more than a week now, but Anna really thought it would be gone soon. That didn't seem to be the case so far, though. The sickness came and went, sometimes in the mornings, most times during the day, and there had been even one or two nights when she hadn't been feeling well. She knew that John worried, and she knew what they both hoped it was, but she couldn't bring herself to think of it as a possibility. It had been ten months since John was released – ten months of them sharing the same bed, every she had laid with him many, many times during these ten months and yet nothing had happened – no sign of a baby.
Anna would have to admit that part of her wanted it to happen as soon as possible, while the other part of her simply wanted to relish her new life with her husband, with the newfound freedom and intimacy marriage brought them. Still, ten months, and nothing – she was nearly giving up the thought of children. Maybe, as much as it pained her to think of this, they weren't meant to be parents. Ten months – if it was supposed to happen, it would have happened already.
"John, I'm sure it's nothing. And I've been perfectly fine all day now," she told him, "I think I'll be perfectly fine tomorrow too. It's gone already."
He pursed his lips, obviously not agreeing with her. Anna sighed exasperatedly, not wanting to debate this any longer. Despite everything, they hadn't talked of children yet. It seemed all too soon to bring up such a subject – especially when the last time they discussed it, years ago, was before everything happened – before his time away from her, before jail, before heartbreak. Anna wasn't sure she was ready to think of maternity as a possibility, a real one, yet; she wasn't sure she would bear the suffering if her dreams were crushed again. She was perfectly happy how she was – working with her husband by her side, waking up next to him every morning and going to bed with him every night. For her, that was more than enough to make her satisfied with life.
"Come here," he said quietly, but the teapot boiling brought Anna's attention back to the stove; as she turned around, however, his hand reached for hers and brought her to him; she fell onto his lap with a shriek, slightly surprised, but she was smiling when she met his gaze. She took a moment to look at him. He seemed truly worried. "I'm sorry, love. I just worry that this might not be just a simple sickness. It's been days. Are you sure you don't want to see what Dr Clarkson says about it?"
Anna smiled slightly, bringing one hand to his hair and the other to his cheek. She shouldn't have snapped at him. Of course he was worried – wouldn't she be too, if it were the other way around? Of course she would. She worried for much less than that nowadays.
"Alright. If I wake up feeling under the weather tomorrow, I'll go see Dr Clarkson in the afternoon," she acquiesced, "Happy now?"
His smile was smug and Anna desperately wanted to get a little mad at him, but she knew it was useless to even try to. He couldn't get her mad for more than two minutes.
"Very," he said, squeezing her waist softly, "With you as my wife, how could I not be?"
He caught her smile in a deep, passionate kiss, and Anna was glad she was sitting or she would have melted onto the floor. It didn't matter that it had been years since they shared their first kiss, or that they were married for more than two years now. John always managed to take her breath away, to this day, and she doubted that would ever change – she never wanted it to change.
His mouth was slow and warm against hers, and Anna's fumbling hands slowly made their way to his broad shoulders and his neck, as she snuggled closer to him. God, she still cherished their privacy so much; year after year living at Downton Abbey with strangers made her realise, when they were settled in the cottage, how relieved, how free she found herself now, and she loved that she could share it with John.
Reluctantly they pulled away to breathe, and Anna groaned at the sudden lack of contact, leaning in to kiss him again.
"What about tea?" he asked her teasingly.
Anna smiled, "What tea?"
John entered the servants' hall quietly, briefly scanning the room. He frowned when he didn't see Anna there; it was nearly tea time, and almost everyone was downstairs. He knew Lady Mary was still shopping in Ripon, so Anna couldn't possibly be seeing to her. He immediately got worried; he knew she had been feeling perfectly alright that morning. He thanked Ivy for the tea, meeting Mrs. Hughes gaze. She had a knowing smile on her face as she addressed him.
"Anna's asked my permission to go to the village to run some errands," she told him quietly, "Since Lady Mary was away, I saw no problem in it. She should be back anytime now."
This put his worries to the back of his mind. Mrs. Hughes would tell him if Anna hadn't been well. And Anna wouldn't lie to Mrs. Hughes. In fact, there were a couple of things they needed to do in the village, but he remembered telling Anna he'd do that on his next afternoon off. She probably decided to make use of her spare time by not troubling him with it.
Indeed, Mrs. Hughes had been right. As soon as his tea was over and he was leaving the servants' hall, he was presented by the sight of his wife closing the door to the courtyard. Anna smiled brightly when she saw him, and he felt relief flow into his veins. She seemed fine.
"Nice of you to show up," he said teasingly, meeting her halfway down the corridor.
Anna pursed her lips and gave him a pointed, playful look while taking off her hat.
"Mrs. Hughes said you went to the village to run some errands," John said quietly as more people left the servants' hall. They could hear Mrs. Patmore yelling at Ivy and Daisy as he spoke. "You should have stayed here to rest. I told you I would do that on Thursday."
"It was no problem, and I had more than those to do, you know," Anna said as she adjusted her hair, "There's only so much you can do."
John frowned; whatever did she mean by that?
He had just opened his mouth to ask her just what she had been up to when Mr. Carson called for Anna.
"Anna, Lady Mary just arrived, and she's asking for you," the butler said, interrupting their conversation.
Anna nodded promptly, "I'll be there in a minute, Mr. Carson."
John was sure he must have looked annoyed, for Anna giggled when she met his gaze again. He couldn't help but smile. She was gorgeous when she smiled.
"We'll talk later," she told him softly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
"Are you at least feeling well?" he asked as she let go of his hand, propriety always on their minds. He walked with her towards the staircase.
"I am," she answered with resolution, "Never been better, I assure you."
He had heard this answer far too many times for the past week, and he was sure he didn't look convinced. Anna rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled.
"I'm fine," she repeated, "Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, Mr. Bates."
"Until then, Mrs. Bates," he said as she began to walk upstairs, turning for a moment to smile at him for using her married name. He watched as she left his sight, nodding at Mrs. Hughes as she passed by him with the same knowing smile as before.
He shrugged, knowing he could do nothing more.
As it was, he hadn't been able to properly speak with his wife for the rest of the day; he kept his eyes focused on her whenever he could as he met her down the halls and during dinner. She did appear to be fine. She was smiling easily and even caught him staring a few times, merely grinning at him. He knew Lady Mary had been a bit difficult lately, and he understood how Anna seemed tired; she rarely complained, of course, but he knew her.
His lordship had a late night discussing matters with Mr. Crawley, so once again Anna had been released earlier than he was. John hurried to tell her to go on ahead, and even though she had argued, he insisted. He only managed to get to their cottage more than an hour later, and he had half expected to find Anna already in bed, asleep. Everything was silent. He started upstairs, smiling as he saw the faint lighting coming from their bedroom.
He stopped by the door, which was slightly ajar; his steps were quiet, and he admired the scene in front of him. Anna was sitting by the dressing table, right in front of their bed, combing her hair. She had a small smile fixed on her face, and he was certain he could hear her humming a song. He smiled, mesmerised at his wife. How often he'd wonder how on Earth he managed to have such a sweet, perfect creature to fall for him – his Anna, his sweet Anna.
He let out a contented sigh and her eyes met his through the mirror. He must have sighed louder than intended. Smiling to himself and holding Anna's gaze with his, he stepped through the doorway. He left his cane by the bedside table; his wife turned, and his breath caught in his throat when he admired her fine features against the lighting of the gas lamp. Anna positively glowed tonight – more than usual.
"I didn't hear you downstairs," she said, resting her hands on her lap, along with the comb. "Did you think I was already asleep?"
He approached her with a soft smile on his face and leaned down to kiss her temple. "You didn't have to wait up for me, you know."
"Well, I wanted to," she smiled as he grabbed the comb from her hands and stood behind her to finish her task. "How is your leg tonight?"
"It's fine," John answered, Anna's hair feeling like silk under his hands. She smelled of soap and soft perfume and like Anna. "How are you tonight? We didn't have much of a chance to talk before."
She averted her eyes from the mirror as her hands found a ribbon on the table, and she was apparently focused on it.
"No, we didn't," Anna took a deep breath. She looked worried. John frowned.
He stopped combing her hair, his eyes questioningly staring at her face. She seemed fine. She looked fine during the day too. Had anything happened when he wasn't around? They had barely exchanged a few words during the day. Perhaps something had happened and no one told him?
A million possibilities passed through his mind as he searched for some answer on his wife's face, but he didn't want to push her. Fortunately, long ago they had perfected the talent of communicating without talking, and Anna truly looked fine. She looked even better than normal tonight. After one full second that seemed like eternity to John, she looked up at him through the mirror. Her eyes weren't worried – perhaps just nervous? – but the raw sincerity in them caught him in surprise. Perhaps something had happened, after all.
"I went to see Dr Clarkson this afternoon," Anna told him slowly, "That's why I was late for tea."
John put the comb on the table, a frown of worry making its way into his features. So she had been to the doctor. Maybe she was ill. How serious was it? Would they have to go to London? What did Dr Clarkson say? Did Anna tell Mrs Hughes anything? Anna turned her body to face him. She smiled.
"John, stop right there," she said knowingly and he looked at her questioningly, "I know you're already thinking of the worst possibilities ever. Stop right there. And maybe you should sit down for a bit."
He smiled – of course she knew what he was thinking.
"I've told you my leg is fine," he insisted, but she kept her gaze focused on him. John rolled his eyes good-naturedly and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Anna. He'd never admit to her, but he felt his leg relaxing almost instantly. John reached for Anna's hands and squeezed them lightly. "How did it go with Dr Clarkson? You told me you were well this morning."
"And I was. But after I took Lady Mary's breakfast to her, I had a bit of a turn," she explained, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry when there was nothing you could do about it. So I went to see Dr Clarkson. And, apparently, I'm very healthy."
John closed his eyes in relief for a moment. "Thank God."
"It's not just that, though. I… We…" he let out a chuckle at Anna's apparent loss of words; that wasn't something that happened very frequently. She let out an exasperated laugh and he noticed her eyes were full of tears now. "I'm pregnant."
The words left Anna's mouth slowly, and there was no mistaking what John had just heard. Anna was pregnant. The air left his lungs in a moment of surprise. She wasn't ill. She was just pregnant. His wife was having a baby. His wife was having his baby. He would be a father.
He focused on Anna's face again and his heart was suddenly so full of love – for her, for what she meant to him, for everything she had given him already. She was smiling at him, and a memory of another time, another place rushed to his mind – a time of promises and dreams for them. Anna had told him she had never been as happy as she was in that moment. She had looked beautiful – but now, today, he realised she had never been so beautiful, so amazing as tonight. She squeezed his hands. She expected him to say something.
"I… Oh, Anna," he managed to say, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them adoringly. "But… how did you know? Did you suspect of this before?"
She shook her head. "No, I… Well, I thought it was a possibility, but I guess I didn't want to get my hopes up. I thought I was just tired, or working too much," she took a deep breath, "Are you happy?"
John let out a shaky laugh, and he was sure his eyes were full of tears as well. Of course he was happy. His darling wife was having a baby. They would be parents.
"Yes. I'm very, very happy," he said, tugging at her hands, and Anna took a few steps towards him, falling into his embrace.
John breathed in her scent, feeling her shake a little against him, and he suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion. They hadn't wanted to tempt fate and they hadn't even talked of children during these months of wedded bliss. Truth be told, after ten months, he didn't think it would happen at all. And now – here they were. His hands found their way to Anna's narrow waist and he smiled when he realised that would change in the next few months – and he could barely wait for it.
They pulled away ever so slightly and shared a deep, emotional kiss. He tasted Anna's tears of joy and for once he didn't mind seeing her cry. She clung to him, sitting on his good leg, and when their eyes met again they both laughed.
"Is everything alright? With you, and the baby?" he asked her worriedly, squeezing her waist ever so slightly.
Anna giggled happily. "Yes, everything's perfectly fine. Dr Clarkson says everything should go well and the baby will be born by the end of winter."
"By the end of winter?" John repeated, "That's less than six months away. We should start preparing things soon."
Anna nodded animatedly, "Yes. I'm just so happy. I don't think I quite believe it yet. It feels like a dream. I wanted to tell you earlier but I didn't want to do it in the house."
He smiled. "And you were right, of course."
"I don't know how I managed to be there for the rest of the day and not tell a soul," she laughed, "I wanted to run to you and tell you everything. I wanted to tell everyone about it!"
He laughed at her excitement, bringing one of his hands to her cheek and staring at her lovingly.
"I'm about to go back to the house right now to tell the news to everyone myself," he teased and Anna giggled, "I love you, Anna. You'll be the most wonderful mother."
"And you'll be the most wonderful father," she told him, her bright eyes shining even brighter.
He smiled, openly and freely; never in his life he could have known he'd find love when he came to work at Downton Abbey, all those years ago. That he'd find such a sweet creature like Anna, who would give him so much in life – her love, her presence, her strength; and now, a child. He had given up on the idea of children long ago, and here it was, finally happening. A long lost dream – a miracle, in his eyes – that he'd share with Anna.
"Thank you, my darling," he said quietly.
Anna shook her head, "No, this wasn't just me. This was from the two of us," she let out a small giggle, "We are going to be parents."
John laughed, a mix of happiness, disbelief and amusement in his laugh. "That we are."
She leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss again; he tried not to think of all the changes that were to come with this huge event in their lives. Somehow, he was sure all the changes would be worth it and very much welcomed. He rested his hand just above Anna's, right on her lower belly, and he smiled when they parted.
He could barely wait for all these changes to happen.