From Cuddle Up a Little Closer - A Domesticity/Intimacy Prompts Meme in response to annambates, who asked for 13. Holidays together.

Set around the time of the S6 Christmas special, and contains spoilers for S6 in general.


He thought he'd been so careful, concealing it from her.

But he'd been frustrated and careless after he'd begun working on the second one, and when she winced and sat down quickly on their little sofa, the one with the repaired legs, and plucked at the bottom of her stockinged foot, he winced. Anna hissed and, rather ungracefully, he would silently add to himself, she pulled the offending sliver of soft wood from the thin material and tsk that she would have to stitch the bottom back together before bed.

Swallowing his guilt, John moved from his chair to sit beside her on the sofa and offered to remove her stocking and mend it for her himself. She tried to protest, but as his aching fingers, red and with two small blisters forming on his finger and thumb, began creeping up her calf to remove the offending garment, Anna's brows rose and she bit her lip in anticipation. They didn't really get any further that night than a good foot rub that helped relieve her swollen ankles. The stocking was magically repaired by morning, after Anna had gone to bed and he'd made a lie of insomnia as his alibi to stay in the parlor and continue his work. This time, he made sure that all of the wood shavings were properly disposed of by morning.

He continued working every chance he had, taking every opportunity to slip home during the day rather than let her make the walk herself. The trip was getting more difficult and tiring for her by the day as autumn rolled into early winter, and there was no need for her to travel any more than she had to. It made him slightly nervous to leave her at the big house so often, so close to the arrival of their baby, but he was a man with a purpose. The first three ended up being tossed into the fire, but the fourth one showed enough promise that he kept working on it, the scrape of the knife and rub sandpaper becoming a form of meditation as he recalled what he'd been taught so long ago.

On Christmas morning, he presented Anna with a small, wrapped package. She balanced it on her swollen belly as he sat down beside her, worried that it wasn't good enough or that she would think him silly for it. But when her face brightened and her eyes brimmed with happy tears, he knew he'd made the right choice in restarting a Bates family tradition.

"It's...a bear?" Anna asked, turning the small, carved wooden toy over in her hands.

John exhaled and nodded. "It was a lion, but I went too far and lost the mane and tail," he admitted sheepishly. "It's for the baby," he added. "My grandfather used carve these little animals for us every Christmas, for myself and my cousins. I received one every year until he passed when I was around fifteen years old. I kept them in a wooden box for years. I treasured them."

Anna clutched the brightly painted toy to her breast, shiny with fresh lacquer that he'd managed to finish applying only yesterday. "It's wonderful," she whispered, then smiled as she pressed it to her belly, which moved slightly as their baby kicked and stretched. "He seems to think so as well."

"We're back to he again," John smiled, covering her hand on her belly.

Anna rolled her eyes. "It changes every day, it seems," she said. "Fitting my mood or how much he...or she is moving around." She studied the lopsided animal that would never stand properly on all four legs. "What happened to them? The ones your grandfather gave you?"

John sighed and grimaced at the memory. "Vera threw them away when I was in prison," he said quietly. "I asked after them on that last trip before she died. I'd told her when she and I were newly married that I wanted to give them to our children, if we had any, but..." He spread his hands, bitter at the memory of finding the old carvings gone, of the mocking tone she took when she laughed and said Anna would give him children to pass them down to, the stinging slap across his cheek followed by the edge of a plate that cut his skin, soothed only when he returned to Downton and Anna's fingers grazed the wound. He knew now that children were a blessing, but he was truly thankful that he and Vera had never had any.

"I will carve a new animal for this little one every Christmas, as long as they appreciate it," he went on, putting on a hopeful smile. "I'll get better at it, I promise."

"I think it's perfect, Mister Bates," Anna said as she leaned over awkwardly and gave him a tender kiss, her belly and their baby between them. "Perhaps you should carve a second one," she crooned against his lips as she swore she felt four feet and three hands all at once. "Just to be certain."