A/N: Cottage scenes are my fuel. Couldn't resist this little piece of complete fluff (and that's totally what it is), stemming from the utterly domestic scene 5.7 treated us to. I wrote this in like 2 hours, so it's not my best work, likely.

Thanks to fuzzydream for her vocal encouragement!

I don't own Downton Abbey.


To Those Who Wait

"Oh dear, my little love. You'll have us waking the whole village up."

Anna spoke in soft, hushed whispers as she cradled her daughter in her arms, her bare feet finding their way instinctively to the front room, where the door had been left ajar. Even in the dimness of the middle of the night she was able to make out the baby's distress not only by her tiny limbs wriggling restlessly but by the wrinkle of each one of her still-forming features, not completely visible in this light to Anna but felt in the depths of her heart. A mother's instinct was almost alarming in its strength and the speed at which it evolved and almost consumed; she was after all so new to the fold.

Emma's cries moved from a squawking to a deeper, more desperate tone coming from the bottom of her small but powerful lungs. Brushing the back of her hand faintly against the soft bud of a cheek, Anna discerned immediately the raw heat that came from the wrought efforts, Emma getting herself increasingly worked up with each second that passed. Though she knew it would be put to an end soon enough, Anna's heart was shattering for every whimper she heard, her fumbling fingers doing her best to soothe and offer comfort in the meantime.

"Hush, my baby girl," she chimed in an almost sing-song tone. "Let's sit down and get ourselves comfortable."

She navigated easily, taking her place in the wooden chair not too far from the fireplace. Emma was already such a clever baby, knowing precisely what this space was for. Anna carefully placed the little girl's head in the crook of her arm against the arm-rest of the chair, watching her daughter's tiny fingers flex and grab at the air as she reached around to untie her nightgown. She had no sooner made the necessary adjustments and shifted her daughter's warm weight closer than Emma's little mouth latched onto her breast, beginning to suckle contentedly. Anna's lips formed a smile as the baby took her fill with very little fuss. The first few times that she had nursed had been a bit peculiar, the sensation somewhat indescribable, but even as she adapted to a routine that had before been completely foreign she had been full of love in the task. She had felt nothing but pure love from the moment that their child had left her body to enter fully into the world. Now the habit not only brought the comfort and satisfaction of sustenance to Emma, but sheer joy to Anna too, the happiness coursing through her veins and making her decidedly less drowsy in the early hour. Emma's little bulk was snuggled tight to her, and in such moments she was reminded of the peace and wonder she experienced through the months when she had carried her inside, every tiny shift and movement felt within her, a complete part of her. A perfect combination of both her and John, the one they had so longed for with every hope and wish they possessed.

These months had passed by so fast, the surprise of it all making time move faster than it seemed was almost possible. Anna had taken the decision to give up her role, knowing that she wanted to dedicate herself to the most precious person that had entered their lives. Luckily she had been able to train up Lady Mary's replacement maid before she bid her leave once and for all, although John hadn't been best pleased that it meant she had needed to work so close up to her due date. Thinking upon it as she sat, her figure moulded to the chair that welcomed her at any time of the day or night, Anna could almost not comprehend. She remembered vividly the night, one like many others, when they had talked and tentatively revisited long-held and unforgotten dreams of a future they both desired so deeply. The path had taken more than a few turns, but they had not been deterred. She had listened as John wondered and cautiously voiced his concerns, supposing whether there was anything wrong with them. She had spoken words to reassure him, and herself a little too. Surely it did take some people longer than others; she knew as much when barely as a child herself, when a friend of her mother's had cried in their kitchen, sorrow she had not understood at the time but still registered.

She had not said it then, but she did worry. Before the terrible hand of fate had bore down, they had done nothing to prevent the arrival of a child. Quite the opposite; they had lay together as husband and wife almost every night, the toil of their daily duties never deterring the need so keen within them both to be as close as they could possibly be. It had taken some time to rebuild and repair, but they had found bliss again, almost sweeter than before, journeying hand in hand. Sometimes things she did not want to consider crossed Anna's mind. That perhaps afterwards something had happened to ensure that she could not get with child. The words died upon her tongue before she could speak them but she knew that John could read her, and his tender looks held her close as his arms did, bringing her back down from the edge with soft kisses upon her hair, and his whispers that it was not her fault, never her fault.

I think it takes some people longer than others. That's all.

Anna felt a sudden rush of air upon her chest, Emma pulling her head away and gurgling softly to announce that she was quite done. She smiled down at her daughter, happy and content and crying no longer, dabbing her little rosebud mouth with the cloth that had already been left on the arm of the chair. She pulled her shift back over her shoulder, lifting Emma's small but sturdy body and settling her there, rocking her gently and patting her soft, warm back.

"There we go. All full, my snug-bug." Emma's breath huffed in and out against her ear, and Anna turned to place a few kisses against the baby's cheek, sensing her little legs wriggling happily. "For a few hours, at least."

The floorboards above their heads creaked ever so slightly, in the way that they simply couldn't avoid even though John would keep his steps as soft as it was possible to do. Keeping one ear upon Emma's regular breathing, Anna left the other open to chart her husband's journey down the stairs, along the little hallway and into the room.

John ran a hand through his dishevelled hair to tidy it, Anna tutting at the motion but feeling her heart expanding within her chest. As she could sense every new expression that Emma tried out, she also knew that there was a smile stretching the width of her husband's face. It had been almost permanent in the last few weeks, and Anna could think of no better sight in the world.

"You're sitting here in the dark," he complained gently, his voice gravelly from the sleep he hadn't long been woken from. The quality of it made a pleasant shiver run the length of Anna's spine, her eyes that had adjusted to the low light tracking the stride of his legs across the floor as he made to light one of the lamps.

"This one doesn't take much notice of the clock, and she needed seeing to quite urgently."

"So I heard."

The singular amber glow filled the room and brought light to John's features, his grin angled instantly towards where his wife and baby daughter sat nestled together. He looked rather a picture but Anna was completely enamoured by him, finding herself falling in love time and again with the father he had become, the role fitting him like a glove despite all of his fretting beforehand. She was joyful beyond belief that she had been able to gift him with a child, after so long of waiting.

Their little blessed miracle shifted herself in her mother's arms, and John sat himself down in the chair that he had brought closer to be at the side of the one Anna now used for nursing, a bit of furniture rearranging necessary for the sudden influx of items they'd gathered in anticipation of Emma's arrival. Yet at every moment he was able, John was at Anna's side as she cradled and cooed at their baby, held in so much wonder and admiring his wife at every second for being the mother she had become so effortlessly. Time was stopped still and his heart nearly stopped too as he gazed upon the two of them, thanking Heaven above that their greatest dream had come true.

"Could you do this up for me?"

Anna's simple question interrupted his reverie, and his fingers worked deftly to fasten the tie on her nightgown – not before he placed a tender kiss upon the skin of her shoulder, making her rise up from the seat a touch. John's lips were still smiling as they left her, only to place themselves on her own seconds later, savouring a kiss full of sweetness and undying affection.

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and it took a few seconds for her eyes to flutter open, John making the most of the haze that had covered her face with delight.

"And what was that for?" she asked him, slightly breathless.

"Nothing at all," he replied with a hint of barely hidden mischief, his eyes crinkling and gazing lovingly at Anna before he looked down at the bundle in her arms. John sighed, not from frustration or any long-held fears but by the harmonious alignment of their lives, at last. "And everything."

Anna watched as her husband's large hand lowered, one of his fingers extending to brush their daughter's cheek with the softest stroke she had ever encountered. She could hardly believe it, half of her wondering whether she was lost in some dream that her mind had conjured up. Yet the familiar surroundings of their home, the weight in her arms and the lingering sense of her husband's lips pressed upon hers told her that it was all real.

She laughed a little as a yawn escaped John's lips after some time, though his eyes remained pinned to Emma, his hand now held firmly over the curve of Anna's shoulder.

"It's not quite what you expected, then?" she said softly, similarly in awe with their baby girl, her tiny eyelids fluttering in and out as she floated into perfect peace, buoyed up by the arms of her mother.

"Maybe not, but you know that I wouldn't change it for the world." His words were utterly sincere, and Anna couldn't mistake the smile in his voice. "Every sleepless moment, it couldn't be enough. I feel like I'm missing so much not seeing every single breath that she takes."

Anna smiled, holding Emma closer without disturbing her.

"Well, hopefully it won't be for long. The sale shouldn't take much longer to complete now, should it?"

"Hopefully not. So long as something doesn't go wrong at the last minute, some kind of infestation or other thing that we hadn't discovered."

Anna shook her head at her husband's worrying; he really did come up with any number of scenarios.

"It'll be perfectly fine. We cleaned that house from top to bottom. Or at least I told you to."

John smirked at Anna, recalling how she had sat upon the couch in the little London residence, her hands resting over the swell of her stomach as he was mesmerised and almost completely distracted from his tasks by how absolutely radiant she had looked.

"That couple seemed very happy with it as their place to retire. Once it's done, then we can settle upon somewhere."

They had already made a little scout around the estate for a suitable place, not too far from where Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson had made their purchases. A small hotel was still their plan, and there had been a couple of options that wouldn't have needed too much renovation. Some of the newer builds were also coming along speedily, and might make for a buy if they wanted to wait a little while longer. They had shown themselves to be quite patient, after all, but time was even more precious to them now and while he was still happy in his job, John wasn't sure if he could take waiting much longer to spend all of his hours with the two girls who were his whole world.

"We can indeed," he smiled down at Anna, catching her own bright one. "Make it just as homely as this place, even better. A little space for Emma to grow into, all of her own."

He paused to watch their baby girl's limbs stretching out in the sleep she had fallen into. Anna was still, the slope of her neck moving barely perceptibly as she sat straight against the support of the chair.

"And I don't know how well it'll be furnished, but I should like to take a few things with us," John uttered, running his finger along the wooden arm. "Including this chair. I'll have you know that it's my favourite."

Anna beamed towards him, hardly needing to ask why. It had gone largely unused for most of the time they had occupied the cottage, paying host to the occasional guest taking a cup of tea and a chat.

"Even more than your usual spot?"

"Much more than that," John said easily.

Her eyes flitted not too far to the right side of her.

"More than that battered old settee?"

She could see that he read her smirk instinctively, thinking of how it had fallen into disrepair on their first entry into the cottage, the way he had fixed it only for it to bear the brunt of their amorous activities not too long again afterwards, yet they couldn't bring themselves to get rid of it.

"Yes, more than that."

Anna nodded, her arms pleasantly aching with the weight of their daughter, a kind she was always happy to be reminded of.

"I have to say, it is my favourite place too," she smiled, thinking of all the hours she had nursed Emma there, so many happy memories already made. Her thoughts weaved in and out, and she suddenly couldn't stop herself from saying it. "Although, I do miss that rocking chair in the servants' hall." Anna felt a triumph as she saw the faint scarlet brush colouring her husband's cheeks. "That was quite sturdy indeed, as I recall."

John simply gave her a deep look that knew exactly what she was recalling, shot through with generous dashes of desire.

Their shared gaze was broken by a little whimper coming from Emma and both were alarmed for the briefest of moments, as new parents who tracked every little sight and sound as a potential cause for concern were. She settled down quickly from a passing lurch in her dreaming and they were calm upon their peaceful sea once more. John angled his head to Anna's cheek, placing warm kisses nuzzling against her skin, detailing the sighs that she now made with each breath released. He expected her to turn to him after a few moments, perhaps for a chaste and awaited kiss upon his lips, but he did not expect to see the smouldering darkness that turned her blue irises a much deeper shade.

"Mr Bates," she uttered in the delicious way she used to tease him, keeping her voice soft so as not to awaken their daughter, "seeing as we are both awake, shall we make the best of our time?"

John smiled in recognition, tracing the beauty of his wife in her nightgown, with her hair half down, already anticipating how he would help her undo the rest, weaving his fingers into the golden silk.

"Well, they do say good things come to those who wait," he said in response, leaving the first tender kiss upon her before the three of them ascended the stairs for the remainder of the night.


A/N: Pure and utter indulgence. See this as the calm after the storm, stemming from the calm before the storm (does that make sense?)

(My heart has sunk a million miles seeing the 5.8 trailer, but I wanted to post this anyway in the spirit of keeping things as happy as possible)