A/N: This is a little one-shot I wanted to write as a modern AU piece for Banna April, but I didn't have the time. Better late than never.

As always, I don't own Downton Abbey or any of its characters.

Something Old, Something New

She had bought all the components of her outfit, and booked a hair appointment for the day before. The present for the happy couple – a tea-set with elegant and definitely not tacky matching 'Mr and Mrs' cups – was sitting in a bag, waiting to be wrapped. With a little over a week to go, almost everything was taken care of ahead of time.

But for one thing.

Usually, Anna didn't give a fig about needing a date for such an occasion. She was happy with her lot – no matter how many times Mary told her that surely, she must want a man to spoil her rotten. "You're far too good to be single," her friend would say, but she honestly didn't care. Value wasn't measured by being in a relationship, after all. Yet this seemed different, somehow. Everybody she knew – and many people she didn't – would be in attendance, passing glances, offering sympathetic smiles. She could almost hear the clipped tones of the elder members of the congregation now, patting her on the shoulder as they offered their sage advice, glimpsing her very noticeably ring-less left hand.

"Don't worry, dear, your time will come."

Perhaps she could get away with a little white lie, saying she was 28 rather than 32.

She couldn't remember the last time she went on a date – it almost felt like it was five or six years ago, though it wouldn't have been that long, surely. Maybe she just wanted to believe it had been, as it was obviously so forgettable. Men from work were never a good choice – and a couple would get very much the wrong idea – and as much as she loved her, she didn't entirely trust Mary's judgment. The other night, out of curiosity, she did something she never imagined she would, opening the browser of her laptop to a dating site. Scrolling through an entirely random selection of profiles, she noticed they all seemed to have one common factor, and couldn't shut the window quickly enough.

The idea came to her that morning. Generally, she discounted any notion she had early on in the day swiftly as soon as she had full possession of her faculties, knowing she was never at her best first thing. But this one had stuck with her, and the more she thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. It also happened to bring a smile to her face whenever she considered it, one that she wasn't able to shake for quite a while after the thought had drifted into her head.

She scrolled through the names in her phone, glancing at the pair of heels that stood pristine on top of their shoebox. Her heart had started to beat faster when she pressed the call button, and the air seemed thin in her bedroom as she waited for him to answer.

"Hello, you."

She smiled again, completely naturally.

They talked for a while. They hadn't caught up with one another for a couple of weeks, both being so busy with their jobs, and she had missed him. Once they got going, they could chat about everything and nothing. She would often joke that he should offer to pay her bill on the occasions when it was particularly large, given that he was in a better role than she was. It was sort of funny, really. In many situations, he was a man of few words. With her, however, he was never short of things to say. She thought he was quite the orator, and sometimes had told him so, earning her a throaty chuckle to dismiss the claim. Really, she could listen to him all day, and his accent – so distinctive, with the faintest of hints to his Irish heritage often discernible – had always charmed her, sending the strangest of shivers dancing down her spine even after so long of knowing him. But it was the kindness in everything he said that made her feel unfailingly warm, and completely secure that she could share her deepest secrets with him and he would never think less of her.

"Are you looking forward to Edith's wedding?" she asked him, after what must have easily been half an hour.

"Let's hope it's third time lucky," he replied, a solemnity to be found beneath his gentle joking.

"Oh, poor thing. She's been so good about it all. I'm not sure that I could have faced it. I would have had to go into hiding forever on some remote island, never to come into contact with another human ever again."

His laughter was light, softness wrapping around her. "I know you, Anna Smith, and that's not your style." He paused, perhaps to brood – about her or something else, she couldn't be sure. "However, I could live the life of a hermit quite easily. In fact, I'd say I've come incredibly close, more than once or twice."

"Well, so long as I'm around to bug you, you know you've never got that option."

She smiled at his silence, although she didn't feel especially victorious at his refusal to argue with her.

"Speaking of which, I was wondering..."

For a few seconds – though it seemed considerably longer – she couldn't get her request out.

"Do you have a date for the wedding?"

He didn't mean to scoff at her question, but it was instinct.

"Anna, are you being serious?"

"I never know with you sometimes. You can be so mysterious, you might have several conquests hidden away, one in every port."

His voice lowered, his heart sinking down past his stomach. Even though he could hear the frivolity in her tone, it came as a sting to even fleetingly believe that she would think him capable of keeping anything like that from her.

"I can assure you, I most definitely haven't."

Of course he didn't have a date for the wedding. The day that John Bates traversed into the world of dating again was the day he was sure that scientists would discover that pigs were actually capable of flight, after all. Robert had tried valiantly over the years, giving him some time and space to adjust after the almighty mess of his divorce was finally over and done with. And yet, time had never been what he had needed – cut-off from the true definition of partnership for a long time before the ink on the papers had dried.

Maybe he was too fond of his own space. He had always been happy in his own company, and if that ever changed one day when he woke up and hurled himself from his empty bed finding that his self-imposed solitude was simply too much to bear, then he would get a dog. It worked for Robert, after all. Alright, his friend also had a loving and dedicated wife and three grown-up but still devoted daughters, and that probably changed the landscape somewhat. But he did not fool himself in thinking it wasn't too late in the day for him. He thanked whatever being could be deigned to exist that he and Vera had never brought a child into the world, reeling to even think how much they would have messed a blameless innocent up with their constant arguing. At 47 he was healthy, of sound mind and still had prospects ahead of him, even if those prospects were not at all romantic in nature. He had been amazingly lucky to come out of it all unscathed, and he couldn't wish for more.

If he was truthful with himself, and listened to the voice that he often strived to keep quiet – knowing that it could never be heard and have its pleas truly fulfilled – there was only one woman in the world that he would want to be with, ever again. The thought was something so wonderful to hold onto, in the moments that he let himself believe that he was entitled to the chance for happiness, but the reality of knowing he would never let it happen brought him back to earth with a painful bump.

He listened to Anna's breathing, the slightly tentative pauses that followed his assertion of his eternally single status. His stomach twisting as he anticipated what surely couldn't be the case.

The very same woman he dreamt of – once being too many times – was about to ask him whether he would solve both of their problems, just for one day.

And yet he didn't hesitate to say yes to her request. Not just because it would stop Robert from berating him for choosing to be a loner in attending the third and last of his daughters' weddings.

It was because for him, one day would be enough for the rest of his life, so long as it was spent with her.

The sun was almost blindingly bright, shining down from a blue and near-cloudless sky. Though he most certainly didn't have it within his power, it wouldn't have been surprising to imagine that Robert had ordered the good weather especially. Though he loved his daughters equally, there was something about Edith's previous misfortunes which made both of her parents will the best for her, as indeed everyone did. Perhaps they believed so much that the day would never come, and that's what made it all the more special.

Rays of sunshine fell perfectly down, framing his sight and making the picture before him even more wonderful. He was aware that he hadn't been able to take his eyes from her since he had picked her up from her apartment earlier, and worry struck him square in the chest that she should notice him staring so blatantly. That's not what a gentleman does. That's not what a best friend does. The glorious day complimented her, of course, but she would have appeared just the same in the middle of a grey hailstorm – which admittedly would have been very unseasonable for June.

She was absolutely stunning, and there was no denying it.

"I thought that was only the bride's obligation."

There was a faintly puzzled look in her eyes, from which he couldn't hide an endeared smile.

"Oh," Anna replied as John signalled his hand towards her cornflower-blue dress. "It was the only decent one that I could find. I dread to think how many hours of my life I've wasted shopping for the perfect dress, when no such thing exists."

This was awful. He was the most intelligent man she'd ever known, he could get through at least three books in a week. And here she was, droning on about dresses.

"You look beautiful."

A man of few words, but they could so easily set her heart on fire.

He dropped his gaze, unable to meet hers for a few moments afterwards. He felt like the biggest fool on the earth.

Long since had he learnt that looks weren't everything. That had been a painful - and vastly costly - lesson. But Anna wasn't only blessed with outward beauty; he had known that from all the times she had been there to lean on and confide in, even when his somewhat traditional nature had prevented him from saying very much at all. She had a wise head on her shoulders, a carefree and enchanting soul that always strived to see the best in everything – even in him –, a nature that was at once tenacious and marvellously soft. And of course, she had the best heart. Pure gold, in every sense.

"I should have said so earlier," he managed to append.

"Don't be daft," she shrugged off his embarrassment rather than his lovely compliment. "But thank you."

If how she felt inside was anything to go by, her cheeks must have been flaming. Ever since he had arrived at her apartment to escort her that morning, she had been in a whirl. It was at once the strangest feeling and somehow felt perfectly natural. She worried that she had been too chatty on the way, talking his ear off as he tried to concentrate on driving. Her mother had pointed out that she always got like that when she was nervous.

It was John. The man who had been her best friend – yes, even displacing Mary and Gwen, since not long after they had met four years ago. Why should she be nervous?

"You match." She smiled at the coincidence, the colour of the tie draped around his neck. "Anyone would think we'd planned it in advance."

He chuckled, his hand rising to the knot.

"Maybe it's just our alchemy."

Her knees felt a little weak. She'd heard the word before, but she couldn't give an accurate definition of what it meant. His eyes never failed to crinkle when he smiled properly, and those nameless lines were a favourite of his physical features. He was a handsome man; any woman in her right mind could see that. Tall, dark. That was just the case in anyone's book.

She had flirted with him in the past, most of the time not even being aware that she was doing so. It was always the way, the law of nature. Flirting was easier when you did it with a trusted friend, as simple as that. It was probably a big part of why she was so hopelessly single.

"Well, it doesn't take much for you to look good, Mr Bates."

Her shoulders hunched as she cringed inwardly. Was that really the best she could do? He answered her with a smile that was familiar, but she felt a rush of dejection come over her in the light breeze. She felt incredibly guilty, to think that she could have played with him for all of these years. Her powers left her, and it was just as well.

"It should have happened years ago, shouldn't it?"

John turned his head to his side, half-surprised she had been quiet for so long – although admittedly, he had been swimming in his own thoughts. Drowning, he didn't want to say.

"Edith and Bertie," Anna clarified, a smile gracing her lips as she spoke of the bride and groom so soon to-be. "I mean, he liked her even when she was seeing Anthony. To think, if he had said something back then. It would have saved so much trouble and heartache, for the both of them."

He was wistful at her foresightedness, willowing at the downcast look that lingered a few moments in her eyes.

"Sometimes we're not at liberty to speak. Sometimes it wouldn't be right."

He felt the warmth of her eyes on him, and he only hoped he hadn't been wrong in saying nothing of his feelings.

"But it all worked out for the best, in the end."

Her smile at his evaluation of the eventual happy ending was cut short as she stopped on the path they were treading, lifting one of her feet from the ground and circling it.

"What's the matter?" he enquired gently.

"My own fault for not breaking these in properly."

He looked down at the towering heels she was wearing, having more than just his sympathy for their size.

"I didn't think we'd be walking for so long."

"You should take them off," he smiled, knowing she would do no such thing. She was self-conscious of her height – without need – and she could be just as stubborn as he was, given half the chance. "Here."

Anna stared a few seconds at his proffered arm, feeling the tingles careen throughout her before she took it. It would be rude to refuse, and her feet were throbbing.

They went on walking hand in arm, the bells of the church ringing out as their strides stayed in step and smiles were exchanged as regular as was right.

The nearer they got, the louder the voice in her head became.

Say it. Just say it, and get it over with.

She shook her head half out of his sight, pretending it was only to do with the breeze and how it was making her hair get into her eyes.

You love him.

As much as the day was meant first and foremost for the new Mr and Mrs Pelham, there was plenty to be enjoyed for all of the guests, young and young-at-heart alike. Anna had avoided becoming part of the eager, mainly-female crowd during the ritual of the bouquet-throwing, and had stuck near to John's side during most of the reception. The cake had been delicious, the photo-booth a lot of fun with all of its silly props, and she had even managed to drag him onto the dancefloor, thoroughly impressed with the moves he had kept not-so-much hidden as never having had the chance to display them.

His knee was going to ache for a week solid, if not more. He knew now that he'd be up every night, gritting his teeth against the pain as it pulsed in every one of his nerves. But he couldn't have let her down by not dancing, and it had been worth every second and beat of the music. If it had been anyone else, there would be no question that he would have sat it out and saved himself the agony.

But it was a Crawley wedding, and that meant they were never left in peace for very long.

John was baffled at how Robert could keep track of knowing so many people, even if many were mere faces without names, to Robert and Cora as well as himself. He smiled politely as each one stopped for a few minutes, making uncomfortable small talk that neither side really much paid attention to. He hated these situations, feeling so utterly alien.

He found himself getting more annoyed every time someone new approached, taking away from the time he and Anna had alone. He knew that it was ridiculous, and the feeling wasn't envy, precisely. He had no right whatsoever to keep her all to himself. Not when she was so brilliant at this kind of thing – so at ease and illuminating – and he was worse than awful.

She laughed at some terrible joke, that at least he hadn't told, and he focused on how sweet she sounded.

"Barks, isn't it?"

"Bates," John corrected the owner of the plummy voice in front of him. He was doing his best to keep the strain out of his expression, though it seemed like a losing battle.

"Oh yes, Bates, of course. Robert employs so many of you, we simply can't keep up."

John kept his grace with the couple, probably ten or fifteen years older than him, the woman clutching a glass of champagne tight in her hand. His memories of that period had been foggy, but the longer he talked he recognised the man as one of Robert's fellow sergeants. He had never much to do with the higher-ranking officials other than Robert, and he felt no less uncomfortable more than twenty years on. Still, he held his own, talking about Edith and the weather, and how jolly everything had been.

He hadn't failed to notice how both of them, but the sergeant's wife in particular, had been taking not-so-subtle stares at his cane, their glances becoming more prolonged each time.

"Badge of honour," he said, straight-to-the-point and without the slightest trace of self-pity. "I trust it's rather different to the ones you have."

The wife let out a small murmur in response, whilst the sergeant, apparently lost for words, solemnly nodded.

He didn't feel particularly puffed-up over making the remark. It wasn't a case of proving anything to his superiors, if that was what they could be called. He was just tired of the stares, the side-eyes, the fact that most people couldn't even acknowledge his injury to his face.

"We manage perfectly well," Anna piped up from his side, and he cast his glance down at her and the curious smile upon her face. "It certainly doesn't hinder us, in any respect at all."

He was feeling flustered enough, and then she stepped things up a gear, slipping her arm around his middle fluidly. John ignored the rightness but not the thrill of the action, a swarm of butterflies breaking free within his stomach.

"I know I won't be prouder than when I walk from the aisle as John's wife. We just need to get my engagement ring resized. Your mum's fingers were daintier than mine when she was younger."

He had zoned out of what she was saying completely, and instead was certain he had fallen down a rabbit-hole of some kind. Anna as his wife. As if his fantasies weren't dangerous enough.

When he looked into her eyes he could see only kindness, and so he didn't mind playing along, without questions or explanations. Platonic love could often be stronger than any other kind, and he was lucky to have someone who cared for him quite so much in his life.

"I mean we would invite you, but it's only going to be a small ceremony. Nothing like this, as nice as it is." She had brought her fingers to twine with his, and he refrained from holding his breath as he reciprocated, following her lead. "The guest-list is already full, isn't it, darling?"

"That it is."

Soon enough, with rather painted smiles, the real couple left their company.

"Snooty buggers," Anna trumpeted, a touch of defiance in her voice.

"Thank you," he said, sincerely, low enough for only her to hear.

They were still holding hands; neither of them seemed inclined to let go.

"John, you never need to thank me."

Her smile was radiant, even in the low twinkling of the fairy-lights that surrounded them. God help him, he was falling deeper.

"Now come on," she bobbed her head in the direction of the floor, currently occupied only by a few others. "I don't suppose another dance is out of the question?"

It wasn't dark enough yet that the stars were out, but Anna looked up regardless. This little secluded spot was far away enough that the music of the ongoing party resounded as so much as a whisper, and not another soul seemed to be aware that it existed.

The solitude offered her a much-needed chance to gather her thoughts, which had been in a jumble all day and weren't any nearer to becoming clearer now.

Or perhaps it was that they had always been obvious; she had just never realised until now.

She upturned her palm, tracing it with the fingers from her other hand. It still burned from where John's hand had pressed, a touch so tender and considerate that it almost hadn't seemed real. It was the most delightful pain, derived from the pleasure she had taken in being so intimate with him. They'd touched a million times before, on temples and shoulders, consoling pats on knees and arms circled around bodies. But somehow that was all different.

Maybe it was the situation. Weddings by their nature were romantic occasions. They set a certain mood, an illusion.

Tears had started to gather in her throat, and she let one escape, though it didn't live on her cheek for very long before she wiped it away.

"I wondered where you got to."

She didn't start at his voice; it was a welcome relief to her, a wonderful comfort.

"The heels finally defeated me," she smiled, rising to greet him in her bare feet. "Just letting the troopers breathe for a bit."

He flashed a crooked smile, the kind that he wore so well. "I'm not surprised, all that dancing you've been doing."

"You should know that I can't resist. Especially not when I have such a fine partner to dance with."

John gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Even this old peg-leg can shuffle his feet in time."

She frowned at him and the earnest look on his face.

"I hate it when you put yourself down. You've no reason to whatsoever."

He didn't try to argue his case with her, only stayed staring into her eyes, and she supposed that was an improvement. It was the only fault that she could find about him, and it was only because he thought too well about other people and not enough about himself. If only he could see what she did when she looked at him – a strong, courageous and compassionate man who would put his life on the line for others. Who had done that very same thing.

Without another thought she opened her arms. "Give me a hug."

He wrapped her up so tight that she almost sank into him. A smile filled her cheeks as she buried her face against his chest, and she knew that his embrace would always be one of her favourite places to reside – no matter what became of the both of them after the evening.

His breath was warm on the top of her head, and if she could have it that way forever then she'd have no hesitation in freezing time.

"I probably shouldn't ask," he began haltingly.

She pulled back to look at him, one hand remaining on his side and the other placed just below his heart. "What?"

He tried to smile before he continued, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Why did you tell that couple that we were together?"

A flutter started in her chest thinking of the ruse she had crafted.

"Well, it was nice, wasn't it? To be in a relationship for a little bit." She smiled, hoping she hadn't sounded careless or selfish, projecting her own deeply-held desires onto him. "I didn't really think about it, honestly. It just felt...normal."

He stayed silent, his expression unreadable. For once, she wished he wouldn't keep himself to himself.

"Plus, it got them to shut their traps."

Out of all of his turmoil, he managed a smile at that. She was quite ingenious at coming to his rescue, when if left to his own devices he likely would have said or done something far more regrettable. He tried not to think about how the toffs were probably just baffled by the mere fact that he could be with someone as gorgeous, young and charming as Anna.

A sudden look of horror came over her face, and his heart dropped like a stone. Even though it hadn't lasted for more than a couple of minutes, she was probably regretting ever play-acting as his fiancée.

"Oh god, John, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. With the whole marriage thing."

The penny dropped, and he could have burst out laughing with relief. Yet he didn't dare, not when she looked so serious.

"Don't worry about it. It feels like I never was, most of the time. Only for some documents."

It had been the biggest regret of his life. Or the second biggest. To finally be rid of the shackles of his past had taken time, but now he was back on his feet when for so long the prospect had seemed impossible. He was free, and he should relish the fresh start that was given to him.

He heaved out a sigh, casting his gaze towards her. "I've been thinking, for some time now."

"That's dangerous."

The longer she insisted on looking at him, the harder the words were to find.

"I...I think I might leave. Get out of Yorkshire, try somewhere new."

"What?" Her voice came out as a reed, a breath of pure astonishment. Inside her chest, her heart had began to beat at double time, utterly frantic. She was surprised she was still able to breathe. "Where's this come from?"

He had raised his eyes to the darkening sky; keeping them on her had become too unbearable.

"I'm not sure, really."

He was being as truthful as he could be. She deserved no less. He brought his hands out of his pockets, as though his gesturing could magically make more sense of everything he had weighed up.

"I've always been a bit of a nomad. Four years is like a lifetime for me to stay put in one place. Rob's been toying with the idea of early retirement, after the health scare, and I know Cora would be glad of that. Maybe I want to jump before I'm pushed."

"But he'd find something for you to do, surely?" Anna's words were stuttering in her rush, smashing together. "Even if it wasn't to do with work. You could write your book. You don't need to leave to do that."

There was no doubt she meant well, but he wondered – just for a few seconds – if she was aware that she was breaking his heart. She was incapable of fault, so he knew the blame lay with him. Truth be told, it would be easier for him to up and leave than to stay around, knowing he could never be with her in the way he longed to for every moment of his hopeless existence.

"I'm not quite past it yet," he joked, forcing a smile to his face. "Might as well take a leap while I can. What have I got to lose?"

She stopped herself from screaming at his words, from beating at his chest or rather wrapping her hands around his arms, and begging him to reconsider. However, whatever, whenever, he would never lose her nor the deepest love that she had for him. It would travel anywhere, be with him wherever he should go.

And now she was sure of it.

"Well then," she took a deep and utterly painful breath and smiled as best she could, "I'm just going to have to make the most of you while I can, aren't I? Though you should know I'm not happy with you, Mr Bates."

"I hope I can change that quickly," he returned. "Can't have you out of favour with me."

She walked a little aimlessly, not caring about the harsh cobbled ground scraping at the skin of her soles.

"You owe me at least two more dances. And wearing that dishy bowler hat in the photo-booth."

He rolled his eyes for a brief moment, before his reserve melted beneath her persuasive glance.

"Whatever the lady wants, she shall get. Her conditions are fair."

She didn't want to smile at him, but she couldn't help it, just as she couldn't help herself from drawing closer to where he stood. In her bare feet, he positively towered over her.

"Who's going to accompany me to all these family gatherings now? You're being a right pain."

His amber eyes glinted, almost glistened, as he gazed down at her.

"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice thick as he tried to fool himself that he wouldn't move heaven and earth for her. "You'll go out, and you'll find a better man."

She shook her head lightly, her bottom lip trembling in the way that always amazed and crushed him in equal measure. God, if she cried, it would be the end of him.

"I can't," she answered resolutely, her voice no louder than a whisper. "Because there isn't one."

Her blue eyes were heavy, though John swore that he had never seen them look brighter nor more beautiful. He didn't think twice, stretching his hand to meet hers, his breath hitching when he encountered the softness of her skin yet again.

He could have covered her so easily. But instead he held two of her fingers so delicately in that paw of his, caressing them lightly. She believed she was going to lose her mind – if it hadn't already taken leave from her, along with her heart.

She needed to take this chance. If she didn't now, it might have been too late.

It went past a want for him now. He had to kiss her.

Their lips were so close to meeting, their breaths already becoming one. What the other had been hiding, without need to do so, was at once so clearly revealed.

A crash sounded to both their ears – a rubbish bin, or perhaps an empty keg of beer. It could have been the end of the world for the sheer significance in that moment.

Cursing the interruption had that prevented the long-overdue kiss, John looked into Anna's eyes, open once more. There was no sorrow within them, as the traces had been previously. They smiled at him in recognition.

She knew that she was blushing, her whole being completely flustered and giddy. They hadn't even kissed, and yet it didn't seem to matter, even though she still ached to know him so much better.

"We should get back," she murmured after a few blissful, slightly blindsided moments.

It was all he could do to nod in response, the words and the weight of everything catching in his throat.

"Wait," he eventually said, taking her hand again as he guided her to sit on the small ledge that was big enough for her.

She watched in anticipation, wincing slightly as he bent to his knees before her, hoping that he wasn't causing himself any unnecessary pain on her behalf. Anna smiled and then let out a giggle as he took her ankle into both of his hands, being so incredibly gentle as he fitted her right shoe back into place. He did the same with the left, letting his fingertips linger around the arch of her foot, as delicate as he had caught her fingers with his own minutes previously. She stopped herself from sighing with delight, though it felt just wonderful.

When he was finished, he offered her his hand once more.

"You know, don't you," she said rather than asked. "That I love you."

He smiled in response, and her heart leapt to find that he had never smiled so wide at her before.

"I do," he replied, squeezing her dainty hand just tight enough in his. "And I love you, too."

Her lips left his slowly, her fingers remaining tangled at the hair sitting just above the nape of his neck. There was a smile blooming on her face, transforming those blushed lips of hers once more, before she even opened her eyes to look into his again.

Years from now, he would cherish this most special night forever.

"How many is that now?" she uttered, her voice half as hazy as her gaze.

John chuckled. "When are you counting from? Because I'm not sure I've got a definite answer."

Her smile was wide and her eyes were alight with so much life. She radiated, and it made his heart almost soar from his chest.

"Just since we became husband and wife," she exclaimed. "I've lost count of the rest."

"But not the memories, I hope."

"Certainly not."

If anyone would have shown him a vision of his future, he would have been certain it was a dream. A fantastic one that he never wanted to wake from, but a dream nonetheless. Before she wrapped her arms around his middle, slipping her hands beneath his waistcoat, he caught a glimpse of the shining ring upon her finger – paralleled to his own – and he knew that it was all real.

He had never left Yorkshire. There hadn't been any question about it, not when she asked him on a date a few days after Edith's wedding. A proper date, with no pretence or uncertainty. They had shared many kisses since, but if he were to recall one amongst the thousands it would have to be that first one – free from interruption, and full of the sweetest passion that had been kept pent up for years. How much it felt like coming home when his lips met with hers. Friends turning to lovers – it seemed like a cliché. But it had been the greatest happiness either of them had ever known.

It had been the best kiss. That was up until hours before, after they had pledged their vows and the rest of their lives to one another. Nearly three years on, things had changed so much. A bond that had been there from the day they had met had been strengthened by true love, and now they were complete.

She giggled before she stole another kiss from him, completely willingly. He groaned feeling her fingers trailing over his face, the cool metal that bound them caressing his skin.

"Mrs Bates," he rasped, the mischievous smile softening when he stared into the depths of her eyes. "You know how to keep a man hanging on."

He took her hand up, his fingertips tracing her wrist lightly.

"I hope it's not ungentlemanly of me now that we're wed, but I am eagerly awaiting for you to have your way with me."

Anna let out a joyous laugh, gathering up the skirt of her dress with her free hand.

"Well, I can assure you that I'm very much looking forward to that too, Mr Bates." The way she spoke his formal name, especially now, made him weak. He was glad of the light touch of her hand upon his chest, to ground him. "I just want to sort something first."

"Getting into something more comfortable?" he asked. He had been hoping to help her out of the beautiful white dress that had graced her stunning figure all day, but perhaps it was for the best that she saw to things herself.

Her lips, still reddened from their bouts of kissing as a newly-married couple, curved upwards.

"Or maybe something not-all-that comfortable."

Lord help him. He fanned his hands about his face when she entered the en-suite bathroom in the bridal suite, hoping fervently that he would make it through the night to be able to please his marvellous wife in all the ways he wanted and desired to.

John perched himself at the foot of the bed, removing his waistcoat and finally getting rid of his tie. He twirled the flower from his buttonhole between his fingers, recalling how it matched one of the blooms from Anna's bouquet. Once he was done with admiring that, he picked up the strip of pictures from the very same photo-booth they had posed in three years ago, except now they appeared smiling from the frame holding 'just married' signs, Anna kissing his cheek in one of the assortment. He had always known it would be, but it had been the most perfect day.

After a little while, not that he was really counting the minutes, Anna emerged in a simple ivory camisole, still wearing the pearl-set earrings she had borrowed from Mary for the day and the silver heart-shaped pendant that he had bought her long ago, his first gift to her when they became a couple. Her hands were held behind her back, but he didn't notice that detail straightaway. Instead he was simply enchanted by her smile and how stunning she looked – more so in this moment than ever before.

"John," she began, her eyes not leaving his. "I have a present for you."

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it can't be as wonderful as you, my darling."

She dipped her head briefly from his sight, though he couldn't escape the smile on her lips. She had come to a still inches from the bed so he rose to his feet, bridging the short distance between them.

"I had my suspicions, but I wanted to wait to be sure. And I wanted to get the wedding out of the way...not that that's the right way to put it, because you know I've been waiting for this day for so long."

She was ten times more adorable when she started to fluster.

"You know this past week I haven't been able to keep much down?"

His heart began to thunder in his chest. "I put that down to excitement."

Anna beamed. "Well, I did too. But even with that, my dress still ended up being a little on the tight side. It was a relief to get the thing off. Oh god, now I'm babbling on."

He smiled softly at her, yearning to be able to hold her hands that she was still keeping concealed.

"Anna."

He said her name tenderly, freeing himself from expectations, letting her take her time.

Slowly, she brought her arms round from behind her. In one hand she held an open and empty box, in the other she held a small white stick, sharpened to a little point.

It took him a few seconds to come to the realisation, but when he did tears came to his eyes and a grin broke on his face.

"Oh God."

Her smile erupted even further witnessing his reaction.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "There's another test in there. They only come in twos. It says exactly the same thing."

He took sight of the little panel as she brought it closer to him, hardly believing what he saw. Two small blue parallel lines, which the code on the box translated into the next in line of their greatest wishes.

Pregnant.

Emotions rushed through him, battling for first place. Amazement, surprise, pride, excitement. So much happiness and complete joy.

Having discarded the box onto the floor, he took her hand into his, circling it completely.

"Really?"

It was silly of him to ask again, but it seemed as though it was the only word he could form at that moment in time.

Anna smiled, her fingers twining tighter with his.

"Really," she said, almost breathless.

He could only compose himself for a few seconds, until she brought their joined hands to lie against her stomach, clothed as it was by soft silk.

"You're going to be a father, John."

It was too huge of a thing to let sink in instantly. He braced both of his arms around her waist – being careful with her even in his rush of impulsiveness – and delighted in her shrieks and giggles as he spun her around.

"It's a good job I only get queasy in the mornings."

"Sorry," he swiftly said, placing her back down gently on the ground.

She was still laughing, and so he couldn't stop himself from doing the same.

"I just realised, I never did get anything blue for today," she exclaimed.

He chuckled, taking another long glimpse at the stick held in her left hand.

"Well, I'd say that can do nicely."

By god, if she wasn't already glowing. He really should have known.

"And I suppose this one is our something new," she added with another new smile.

He inhaled a breath, grinning like a fool at the thought. Gently he laid his palm back over her middle, trying to imagine how her petite frame would swell out in the coming months.

"A baby," he said. "Our baby."

"A little Baby Bates," she echoed his amazement and euphoria.

It could have been overwhelming. Today not only had Anna come to bear his name, but now their unborn child did too. He couldn't wait to meet them, to let them know how much love they had been born into.

"I suppose that's one thing," he commented, quirking his eyebrows upwards. "It'll be obvious that he or she wasn't conceived on our wedding night."

She smirked at him, linking their fingers together again.

"I'm not sure that will be such a surprise," she quipped, "not with our alchemy."

He threw his head back, letting out a loud laugh.

"That's very true." He cupped her face with his hand, stroking his fingertips against the strands of her hair. "I love you, Mrs Bates. All of you."

She smiled, drawing closer to him and draping both of her arms around his shoulders.

"And we love you too, Mr Bates."

If there was a better start to married life than the two of them becoming three, then neither could think of it.

A/N: This came from the following OTP prompts (which would have been spoilers if I'd put them first):

'Imagine that your OTP are mutual friends who both have close friends/family or whatever getting married. Because they've both been single for a long time and they feel pressured or are just desperate to not look alone, they ask each other to go as their fake date to the weddings.'

and

'Imagine Person A of your OTP finding out they're pregnant on them and Person B's wedding night.'