Author's Note: You know that fourth wall thing? Yeah, there's a big crack in that wall. And, of course, I should have thrown in an obligatory disclaimer in my first chapter, but since it was practically another millennium when I last wrote fanfic, I most abjectly beg forgiveness for my forgetfulness. If I did own Downton, well, let's just say that Anna would not have Bates, because I would own him, and therefore, he would be mine, all mine.
The Author's Note: I have recently become aware of some dissatisfaction amongst a few of my characters. I am aware of this heresy and will take whatever steps I feel are necessary to guide my people along their pre-ordained paths. I love all of my characters and have only their greater good in mind. I have no desire to "punish" any character who oversteps his or her place, but I must consider the overall story arc. The actions of a few could have potentially far-reaching effects; multiple universes may be in jeopardy. Please do not aid and abet these dangerous few. Consider this fair warning. If you continue to read this story, even your own storylines could be in grave danger.
Bates took Baxter's elbow to guide her more quickly through the attic corridors. "Where are we?" she asked. "I've never seen this part of the house before."
"Not many have been up here," Bates replied. "His Lordship actually showed it to me about a year or so after I started here. I'm not sure if he completely grasps the significance, however."
Baxter nodded. "Yes, he does seem to see significance in everything, except what is actually going on around him, doesn't he?" Her hands flew to her mouth. "Did I say that aloud?" she asked, glancing about furtively.
"It's this part of the house," Bates explained. "It can have strange effects on you. Be very careful. And I won't comment about His Lordship, except to say he seems to see more significance in his dog and his cricket than anything else."
They turned another corner and found themselves plunged into darkness. Baxter grasped Bates' arm, then pulled back in apology. "Don't worry," he said. "It caught me by surprise the first time and there wasn't even electricity up here then. It's darker than a cave up here, but the door is just ahead."
Bates pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and felt along the corridor walls, counting doors with a tap of his cane as he went. He stopped at the fourth door on the right. "Brace yourself," he warned, "there are some rather odd . . . artifacts in this room." Bates slowly unlocked and opened the door and then watched Baxter as she surveyed the room. Good, he thought, her curiosity was evident by her facial expression. She likely was every bit as intelligent as he expected. The plan could work.
Bates glanced about as Baxter took in the room's décor more slowly. Nothing had changed since his last visit here. The large windows to the right let in the light of the full moon. Bates knew the room they were in was near the pinnacle of the Abbey's vast attics, far from the servants' quarters near the back of the house. There was a fire burning brightly in the rather average sized hearth. Two low, overstuffed chairs sat before it with a small table between them. A couple of candlesticks graced the mantle, along with the other items Baxter was sure to notice soon enough. But her attention was captivated, as his had been, by the strange, rather small motion picture screen hanging on the wall above the mantle. Bates didn't know what else to call it. It resembled the large screens they showed pictures on in Ripon and York, but the pictures were far more life-like, with full, rich colors. It was also currently showing a conversation that Anna and Lady Mary were having as Anna dressed her for dinner. Bates knew that the brooch Anna wore was one he had helped her pin on this very morning. She had pricked herself on the pin and he had pinned it for her but not quite in the right place. Not that she had minded when he had kissed the pain in her finger away and then proceeded to kiss the others, just for good measure, and then—Focus, man, focus, he thought, that was part of why he was here, of course, but there was so much else that needed to be done.
"Is that . . . are we seeing what is happening . . ." Baxter was clearly dumbfounded by what she saw on the screen. "That dress . . . draped across the bed . . . Lady Mary wore that today?" While she seemed certain of Lady Mary's wardrobe, she clearly questioned that she was truly viewing the two women as they interacted in the rooms below.
"I don't know how it works," Bates answered. "I just know that it does."
"But that's happening now," Baxter replied, regaining her equilibrium. "How does that help us steal our storylines?"
Bates smirked. "For that, we'll need those items on the mantle." He watched Baxter cross the room and carefully pick up one item in each hand. She then set the flat item down and ran both hands over the apparently clear glass bottle that had been on the mantle.
"It's not glass," she marveled. "It's as clear, clearer even, than any glass I've ever seen, but it's so lightweight." She took the bottle again and shook it. "Is this water inside?"
"Water, yes," Bates assured her, "but not like any water I've found elsewhere." He watched her as she lightly tossed the bottle from one hand to the other. "I have no clue what it's made from," he continued. "Even the cap is a strange material. It unscrews like a jar lid, but it's blue."
"Is this other a picture screen like the one on the wall?" Baxter asked, exchanging the odd bottle of water for the flat item. "But it has buttons like a typewriter keys. And what does it say at the top? 'Amazonkindle'? What does that even mean? A fire in the rain forest?"
"It's a little complicated," Bates said, taking the artifact, which is the only word he felt comfortable using for it, out of her hands. "Sit down, and I'll try to explain."
Baxter settled gracefully into one of the chairs, looking up at Bates expectantly. He lowered himself far more heavily into the other chair, hooking his cane on the edge of the table. He turned the artifact over in his hands a couple of times and then set it on the table beside him as well. "You understand that we, all of us, all of this, exists inside The Author's mind, right?"
"I suppose I've always sensed that in some fashion," Baxter replied. "Doesn't that imply that He can always know what we're doing, what we're saying, thinking even?"
"Not entirely," Bates said. "Sometimes his focus is elsewhere. Our lives continue, but without as much direction as they do other times. This room, it's a sort of . . . window, so to speak, into The Author's mind. Into other portions of His mind."
Baxter looked about, seeming to view the room for the first time again. She looked back to Bates. "So how do we go through this window then?" she asked.
"I'm glad you asked." Bates smiled tightly as he spoke, and then twisted and picked up the artifact. "Fetch that non-glass bottle, would you?"
Baxter retrieved the bottle from the mantle and handed it to Bates. "What you do," he said, "is take a sip of the water and—"
"Just a minute," Baxter interrupted. "Are you sure that it works? That it's safe?"
"I'm completely certain," Bates replied. "It is a little unnerving, but it is safe. I've done this several times myself."
Baxter looked at him quizzically. "The why haven't you done this before? Changed the storyline? You and Mrs. Bates have certainly suffered enough over the years if the rumors and stories are to be believed. You could have done something about that long ago. Why now? Or why not write in a suddenly dead rich uncle for you or Mrs. Bates with enough of an inheritance to leave Downton completely?"
Bates chuckled. "I did actually, only it wasn't an uncle, it was an almost father-in-law and that's what it took to save the estate. I was trying to avert my own arrest and imprisonment, but I wasn't quick enough. I was able to set things in motion for Mr. Crawley to save Downton. I was able to make that change because the script was left out. Everywhere I look now they seem to always be under lock and key. I am not doing any of this for my own profit, Miss Baxter, but to correct the egregious wrongs that have been foisted on several members of this household."
"What changes do you hope to make?" Baxter asked. "Besides giving yourself and Mrs. Bates a child?"
"All in good time, Miss Baxter, all in good time." Bates held the bottle out toward her. "So you take a sip and then—"
"I haven't actually said that I would do this," Baxter equivocated. "I have promised to not commit any crime ever again."
"This isn't really stealing, Miss Baxter," Bates spoke earnestly. "It is righting a wrong, several wrongs, setting things right."
"Will you promise me that you will change something that gets Thomas, Mr. Barrow, to leave me alone?"
"Yes," Bates promised.
"Very well, then," Baxter sighed. "Tell me what to do."
Bates leaned forward eagerly, his eyes glinting fiercely in anticipation. He spoke rapidly. "Take a sip of the water while you're holding this artifact. Press this button right here." He showed her a depression on the side of the device. "Stare at the screen and within moments you'll be sucked in."
"How do I get back out? Back here?" she asked.
Bates eyed her warily. "You have to will yourself back," he said. "This is the dangerous part because you may end up in . . . other places . . . other times even. It can be very disorienting. You may see yourself, or others you know, living very different lives. When you've accomplished what you need to accomplish, you need to focus on this exact room with me in it. The first time I went in, it took me quite a while to find my way back. I saw myself in some very compromising positions, doing a wide assortment of odd things. I saw Anna . . . well never mind what I saw Anna doing. I saw His Lordship die, only he was not the Earl of Grantham we know, but another man with the same face. As I said, it was disorienting."
"What, exactly, do I have to do?"
"When you get there, you'll probably be in a corridor of some sort. Look for a door that says 'Series 5.' It will be locked, and you'll have to find a way in. Once you're in, get all the scripts you can and then carry them to a door labeled 'amazonkindle' just like it says here on the artifact. When you do that, I'll be able to see them here, on the artifact, and make the changes. Once I've finished, you then return the scripts to the 'Series 5' room and will yourself back here."
"How will I know when you've finished?" Baxter asked.
Bates pursed his lips in thought. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I'll need some time to read what's coming and determine how best to work the changes in. I can't change much from the past, but if it hasn't been directly addressed recently, I can make some adjustments." Bates considered a possible answer. "It's possible that you may see the changes appear as I make them. Watch the scripts as I work. If that doesn't work, I'm not sure. Just give me enough time to read and alter what's there."
"Will you be able to see me while I'm there? On the big screen on the wall? Will we be able to communicate?"
"Jules Verne fan, are you?" Bates asked. "I can adjust the picture on the wall to show me different scenes The Author has written or visualized. Sometimes I think there might be many Authors, all writing different stories. Just like you can read a book and call the scenes to mind later, even though you didn't create them. I think The Author may be the same. Some things, like our world, He has created. Others, other people, other worlds, maybe He created them or maybe other Authors have and He's read them or viewed them, like a motion picture. But they are all tumbling about in his mind. That's why you have to be very careful, and very focused on the task at hand."
"Give me the artifact then," Baxter ordered. "Let's change our fates."
Bates handed her the artifact. She took a sip of the water and handed him the bottle. She swished the liquid around in her mouth for a moment and then depressed the button on the side of the artifact. The small screen lit up with an odd symbol. Baxter stared at it intently. Bates stared at Baxter intently. He had never watched someone else make this journey before.
Nothing was happening. Baxter sat there, dutifully staring at the screen. Bates let out the deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding and looked up at the screen above the mantle. Daisy was having dinner with Mr. Mason, telling him about her math studies. He heard a soft thud beside him and turned back to Baxter. The artifact was resting on the cushion of the chair.
Miss Baxter was gone.