A/N: Here are the rest. There's a footnote regarding one of them at the bottom.


II.

Anon's prompt: Anna and John visit a dress shop.

"I think I need a new dress," Anna announced as she flopped down onto the bed beside her husband.

He shut his book, eyeing her quizzically. "You do? I think you already look perfect in whatever you're wearing."

"And that's why you're a man," she teased. "With the servants' ball coming up again, I'd like to look nice. Especially when it'll be our first servants' ball as husband and wife."

John shrugged, tossing his book onto his nightstand. "Well, if that's what you want."

"It is. I'll go into Ripon on my next half-day. I don't want anything extravagant, just something simple."

"All right then. I'll come with you."

"What? Won't you find dress shopping terribly dull?"

"I'll be spending time with you, won't I?" he shot back. "And that can never be dull. I'd rather not spend my half-day without you. Perhaps I can be of some assistance."

She knew that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help, but she couldn't help but smile. "Very well, then. You're a charmer, John Bates."

His grin was cheeky. "I'm only a charmer if it worked. Did it?"

"You'll have to come over here and see for yourself," she purred, and squealed when he rolled them over.


Their half-day arrived, and it found John and Anna in the dress shop in the centre of Ripon. Anna was browsing the shelves interestedly. John was trailing after her, not quite sure of what he was supposed to be looking at. The corsets on display made him wince. They were tiny.

Anna was picking out a pale lemon gown. John sidled up behind her. The shop owner was preoccupied with a stand at the other side of the room, so he risked ghosting his hand across the small of her back.

"I always find that you look gorgeous in blue," he growled in her ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

"Then I suppose blue is what I'll go for," she murmured, turning around so that she could gaze into his eyes heatedly.

He followed her further into the back, smiling softly as she picked out a gown of palest blue, holding it up in front of her.

"What do you think of this?" she asked.

"I think I need to see you in it first," he rumbled.

"There's a dressing room in the back of the shop," she told him. "Why don't we go and do it now?"

He followed her eagerly, glancing around to make sure that he hadn't been seen. Anna ushered him into the dressing room before her, pulling the curtain closed quickly behind her. She shot him a cheeky grin as he watched her with hot eyes.

"Give me a few moments to get ready," she told him. "And then you can give me your opinion."

"Yes, milady," he murmured, allowing his eyes to drift without shame over her flesh. Anna wasn't embarrassed. She undressed quickly, then pulled on the new dress, buttoning it up at the front.

"What do you think, then?" she asked, giving him a twirl in the confined space.

In a moment he was pressed up against her, his lips tasting the lobe of her ear.

"I like it," he growled against her skin. "I like it a lot."

"But…?"

His grin was wicked as he pulled away from her. "But I think I'd like it even more on the floor."

Heat pooled in her veins, and she crashed her mouth back against his, swallowing his groans.

And she had to agree with him. It did look much better on the floor.


Anon's prompt: Anna and John after the "revenge is sweet" line from S03E07.

"Revenge is sweet," he said, offering her a grin. She felt her own face expression mirror his as he began to tug her along, back the way that they had come.

"Which one is Mrs. Bowe's?" he murmured to her as they walked back down the line of cottages.

"The one on the end," Anna replied, coming to a stop in front of it. "What do you think?"

He squeezed her hand tighter. "I think it will be perfect whatever it looks like, because you'll be there inside it."

She rolled her eyes playfully at him. "It's nice to see that you haven't lost your charms, John Bates."

He chuckled. He wanted to slide his hand from hers and take her fully into his arms, but he didn't quite dare. Not out here, where everyone could see them. He settled instead for stroking his thumb across her knuckles.

"I can't wait, you know," she said suddenly. "For us to have our own home, I mean. I can't quite believe that it's actually going to come true. I know we have to wait for a few weeks while everything is sorted, but just knowing that we can actually have it all…it makes me so happy."

"I know exactly what you mean," he said. "To be back here with you, after everything that we've been through…" He trailed off, and she let her spare hand close comfortingly around his forearm. She understood.

"When we move in," she said decisively, "I'm going to hang some nice, white curtains at the bedroom window."

"White?" he said, amused. "Why white?"

"Honestly, Mr. Bates, don't you know anything? White is perfect because it goes with anything."

"Well," he said, "I think the walls should be a pale lemon, because it's a happy colour. It matches your lovely personality."

She smirked at his reasoning, but didn't comment. "I want a settee rather than armchairs, so that I can curl up beside you."

"I want a blazing fire in the grate, so that we're never cold."

"I want a kitchen that's just cosy enough for us, so that when I cook, the air will smell of our food. Like home."

"I want a sturdy kitchen table," he said, and his voice was suddenly rough around the edges. Anna felt herself flush unexpectedly all over, and she watched his eyes darken when she looked up into his face.

"I want a soft bed with warm sheets," she said huskily, tilting her head back. The mood had turned considerably more intimate, and neither of them could help but groan a little at the images that filled their heads.

"It can't come soon enough for me," he told her gruffly. "This waiting is torture."

"Well," she said with a wicked grin, tugging on his hand. "I can't let you have the bed or the kitchen table just yet…" her eyes gleamed at the sight of him biting his lip, "but we don't have to wait any longer to be together, if you don't want."

His eyes roved heatedly over her face. "What do you have in mind?"

She giggled and pulled on his hand, leading him away. "You'll have to wait and see."


Anon's prompt: During dinner, John announces unexpectedly that he wants a baby.

John had been quiet ever since they'd returned home that evening. He hadn't said much on the way back, which wasn't unusual in itself because John was a quiet man by nature, but it was the expression on his face that was perturbing Anna the most. He looked completely lost in his own thoughts, his eyes faraway. She had said his name five times now, and he still hadn't heard her. She sighed once more, serving dinner up on their plates. She would try to broach the subject with him during the meal. Ever since his release from prison, John had become much better at confiding in her, not shouldering his burdens alone. She hoped that he wasn't reverting now.

He mumbled his thanks as she slid his plate in front of him, and she eyed him across the table as he picked up his fork and pushed his food distractedly around his plate. She kept silent for a few minutes, simply watching him, trying to find the words to bring up his strange mood. She had just opened her mouth to tentatively ask him if there was anything bothering him, when he suddenly snapped his head up and stared at her intensely. The look stunned her into silence again, and before she could quite gather her thoughts, John began to speak.

"Anna," he said quietly, his eyes burning her skin, "I want a baby."

Whatever she had been bracing herself to hear, it had certainly not been that. She dropped her fork back onto her plate with a clatter, sending specks of gravy flying.

"W–What?" she stammered, eyes wide.

He stood quickly, moving around the table to drop to his knees in front of her, wincing as his bad knee came into contact with the floor. "I want a baby with you, Anna. It's all I've been able to think about all day."

Anna tried to process the momentous weight of his words. Although she and John had not actively been trying to prevent a pregnancy, they had decided many months ago when he'd first been released from prison that they would like to wait for a while before adding to their family, wanting to spend time as husband and wife before they became parents. Anna had felt nostalgic stirrings when Lady Mary had announced that she was pregnant, but she had still been content to wait until her husband was ready. She hadn't expected the day to come so soon.

"What's brought this on?" she asked, though she could feel the smile threatening to crack her face in two.

He took hold of her hands and linked their fingers together. "I was in the grounds today, and I saw Mr. Branson with Miss Sybil. And then I saw Mr. Matthew with Lady Mary, and…and I couldn't stop imagining us."

Oh, how her heart had begun to pound. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, and she slid from her chair so that she was kneeling down too, bringing his hands up to her lips. "I love you."

"Is that your way of saying that you want a baby too?" he asked her cautiously. "Only, I don't want to pressure you into something that you don't want, or you're not ready for –"

"Stop worrying," she told him through a tearful laugh, shaking her head. "Of course I want it too. It's just a little unexpected. I'd love to have a baby, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to. I'm overwhelmed, but in a very good way."

So we're agreed?" he said, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the sheer joy on his face. "We're going to try for a baby?"

She nodded, laughing, moving forward so that she could throw her arms around his neck. After a few moments, she clambered back to her feet, helping her husband up. He squeezed her hand and then released her, obviously intent on returning to his side of the table, but she reached her hand back out and caught his wrist.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she said huskily.

He raised his eyebrows. "To eat, of course. It's going cold."

She smirked, deliberately pushing her body up against his. "We can reheat it later. Don't you think it's imperative that we try as often as we can for this baby?"

His breath caught in his throat as the smell of her hair invaded his senses, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning back in.

"Perhaps you're right," he murmured.

She grinned lazily. "I know I'm right. Our bed is calling to us, Mr. Bates."

"The sofa is closer," he said in return, and she squealed as he dragged her into the sitting room.


Anon's prompt: Anna and John cook dinner together.

It had become their nightly ritual, to cook their dinner together. At first, Anna had insisted that she didn't need any help, that she was perfectly content with cooking for her husband alone, but she had soon come to realise that he still liked to follow her into the kitchen anyway. And, with him sitting at the table, scrutinising her every move, she'd found that he was quite a distraction. She'd never been able to make dinner perfect because, more often than not, she'd find herself being pulled out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom. Or at least the sitting room.

So that was why she'd relented and allowed him to help her cook, because at least if he was focusing his energies into cutting up the carrots, he wasn't distracting her and ruining yet another perfectly good pie.

In fact, they made quite a good team in the kitchen. John had picked up the knack of knowing exactly what she wanted passing to her, and Anna took great delight in seeing John moving around the kitchen with her, looking completely at ease with his surroundings. She loved to see him with his collar and tie removed, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he attacked the vegetables with enthusiasm. She enjoyed letting him taste the pastry that she was making, or smacking his arm good naturedly if he dipped his fingers into their dessert – a luxury that she stretched to whenever she thought they could afford the extra ingredients.

She enjoyed hearing him inhale the rich scent of their cooking dinner deeply, and loved it even more when he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and telling her that he thought that it smelled delicious, that she was just as good as Mrs. Patmore. More than that, she loved it when he told her that the guests at their hotel would adore her cooking just as much, because it reminded her of their beautiful dreams for the future.

But most of all, she loved eating their spoils, knowing that it had been a team effort to make, that he had put just as much love and enthusiasm into preparing it as she had.


Anon's prompt: John meets his baby girl for the first time.

John was shaking as he cautiously pushed open the door to their bedroom, peering into the semi-darkness. He had not slept all night, too full of nervous energy to even contemplate sitting down. It was almost dawn now, and Anna's labour had lasted fifteen long, painful hours. Just listening to her moans from downstairs had made the blood curdle in his veins. He had spent all that time pacing in their sitting room, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg as it had protested against so much time being spent on it. Several times, he had lingered on the landing, desperate to know whatever he could, only to be shooed away by Mrs. Hughes as she'd hurried around collecting clean towels and warm bowls of water. All the while, John had been unable to stop himself from imagining the worst, his mind preying on him as it so often did, leaving him a nervous wreck as the cries above his head grew louder and louder.

But then it had been over, and Mrs. Hughes had delivered the news that both mother and baby were fine, with more than a little relief in her voice. He had asked if she'd graced him with a boy or a girl, but Mrs. Hughes had smiled knowingly and told him that Anna wanted to be the one to give him that answer.

His breath caught now as his eyes adjusted to the light that the one flickering candle gave off. The candlelight caught Anna's hair and gave her the illusion of having a halo. Her features were half in darkness, her face turned down to the bundle in her arms.

Christ, his child was tiny.

Entranced, he took a step into the room. Anna looked up at once, and her face split into a wide, tired grin.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hello, my darling," he replied, his voice catching in his throat. Cautiously, he settled himself onto the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," she admitted. "But it was all worth it."

"I'll say," he murmured.

"Come here," she said softly. "I have someone who would like to meet you."

John nodded wordlessly, discarding his jacket and shoes, shuffling onto the bed to sit beside her properly. She shifted forward a little so that he could slide his arm around her shoulders and draw her closer to him, and she rested her head against his arm as he got himself comfortable. Then, when he was properly settled, she turned the tiny bundle in her arms until the baby was facing him properly.

John's intake of breath was sharp. The entire world shrank to the size of their bed.

"My God," he breathed.

A tiny button nose. Hands that were so small, he could barely believe that they were real, with miniscule nails that made his heart lurch. Dark fuzz that feathered the head. And two little blue eyes, half-lidded as they regarded him with interest.

"This is your daughter, John," Anna breathed.

A daughter. She had given him a daughter. John felt the tears well up in his eyes, and he didn't try to hide them from her.

"Hello," he said, reaching out a shaking hand towards his baby daughter's face. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, afraid that he might hurt her, and she squirmed a little in her mother's arms. John shrank back at once, but Anna only laughed.

"She knows her pa already," she said, rocking the babe gently.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to take my eyes off her," John said honestly. His voice was trembling. "Anna, she's beautiful."

"She is, isn't she?" replied Anna, turning her shining gaze on him. John didn't want to tear his stare away from his daughter, but he couldn't ignore the look of utter adoration on his wife's face. Cupping a hand against her cheek, he leaned in to kiss her deeply.

"Do you know how proud I am of you?" he whispered when they parted. "You've given me everything that I could have hoped for."

Anna's lip trembled. "I'm glad that you're pleased."

"Darling, I couldn't be more pleased," he said. "This is incredible. I love you so much. And –" he cast his eyes back down, "– I love this little one just as much."

"Would you like to hold her?" Anna asked.

John nodded. "Soon. Let me have one minute more just memorising the way you look holding her."

Anna smiled, understanding, and John let his hand rest underneath Anna's, supporting the weight of their baby together.

Their lives were finally complete.


Anon's prompt: John meets his twins for the first time.

John might have been in this position before, but it didn't mean that it was any less wondrous and exhilarating the second time around.

Standing at the foot of his bed, he watched Anna shoot him a wide, exalted grin. A beautiful baby was nestled in the crook of each of her arms.

Two more children. God, what had he done to be graced with such good fortune?

As if in a trance, John settled himself next to his wife, just as he had those two years previously, sliding his arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer. Pressing a fierce kiss against her mouth, he sat back to regard the faces of his children. The window was open, blowing in a cool breeze and attempting to mask the disturbing smell of birthing, and he chuckled lowly as one of his children screwed up its little face in protest.

"Look how beautiful they are," he breathed.

"Beautiful," Anna agreed, her voice wobbling. "Your daughter and your son."

Tears rushed inexplicably to his eyes. A son and a daughter. His life couldn't get any more perfect.

"Would you like to hold one?" she asked quietly, and he nodded eagerly, reaching to take the baby nearest his side.

"That's your son," she told him softly.

Good God, he was holding his very own son. John settled him gently into his arms, supporting his little head and gazing down in sheer wonder. The little lad yawned widely and wriggled, and John chuckled again. He let his gaze wander over to his daughter, to find her staring with wide eyes up at Anna.

"She's so much like you," he said, and Anna tore her eyes away to glance up at him.

"You think so?" she asked. "I'm not as sure."

"There's no mistaking it. She's got your eyes and your nose."

"She's got your chin, though."

"Poor thing."

Anna giggled, then allowed the baby to catch her finger with a flailing fist. "How was Martha, by the way?"

"Fine when I left her. Daisy was going to show her to your old room and sleep with her there for the night so that Martha could sleep in your old bed. She was very excited at the prospect."

Anna smiled wistfully. "I can't wait to see her tomorrow."

"She can't wait to see you, either. Or the twins. She's so eager."

Silence dominated for a few moments, and John allowed his eyes to drift back to his son. Although his features were similar to his sister's, there were slight differences in the shape of the nose and his mouth. His weight was light and comforting, and John brought him up to press a kiss against his little forehead.

It had been a complete and utter shock to be given the news that they were expecting twins. They hadn't been sure if they'd even manage to have another baby after Martha, never mind having two at the same time. Dr. Clarkson had been amused at their shock, claiming that anything was possible when it came to children.

Anna had glowed throughout the pregnancy, and John had adored seeing the way that she'd filled out. Despite it being the second pregnancy, he still hadn't been any less fussy, a fact which had exasperated and endeared Anna in equal measures.

And now everything was over, because their babies were here.

"Are you glad to have a son?" Anna interrupted his thoughts, and he turned back towards her.

"It's nice," he said with a smile. "But I would have been just as overjoyed if you'd graced me with two more daughters."

"I'm glad you've got a son," she confided lowly. "I wanted to give you that. And at least you're not quite as outnumbered by women anymore."

"I was a little worried that you'd have me teaching them how to sew," he agreed, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "You often say that I have a neat hand with his lordship's clothes."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me, John."

He didn't need telling twice. In their arms, their two babies slept.

The Bates family was complete.


Anon's prompt: Anna and John after "you're stuck with me now, for good and proper."

"You're stuck with me now. For good and proper."

They spent several moments simply smiling at each other, before Anna brought herself closer to him again.

"For good and proper," she sighed. "I like the sound of that."

"So do I," Mr. Bates agreed, rubbing his hands over her arms again. "Just you and me and no one else."

"At least not at first." The words escaped her mouth without her realising, and she froze, wondering how Mr. Bates would take them. They had not spoken of children since that night all that time ago, when they had dreamed of their future. What if his dreams had changed in their time apart?

But Mr. Bates simply squeezed her tight, and it melted her fears away.

"Yes, just not at first," he agreed. "After that, we'll allow a few little children to join us."

"A few?" She raised her eyebrow teasingly, and he blushed.

"Well, I expect we'll be happily married. So it shouldn't be surprising if we have a few," he murmured.

A few little babies, members of the Bates family. She herself proudly wearing his name. "In our little cottage?"

"Of course. Our own little family in our own little home."

There was such tenderness in his tone that she couldn't resist leaning up, sliding her arms around him properly, holding him tight, pushing herself as close to him as possible, leaning up on her tiptoes to even out the height difference. He seemed mesmerised by her as she moved closer, and she smiled at him. She was still smiling when she closed her mouth over his, and it felt delicious to feel him reciprocating the action, his hands sliding back to her waist. When she tentatively touched her tongue to his bottom lip, he opened his mouth immediately, and they spent several minutes simply enjoying each other. At last, however, the need for air became too much, and they reluctantly broke apart.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go inside now. You're shivering."

She was shivering, but it wasn't because it was cold. It was the feel of his hands on her body that was making her quiver. She could feel their warmth even through the layers of her clothing. Not for the first time, she wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on her naked skin. That only made her shudder more violently.

"Come on," he said again. "The others will start to wonder where we are anyway. We don't want Mrs. Hughes coming out here and catching us like this."

"Oh, all right then," she sighed, pulling away but taking his hand in hers. "Though I do wish that we could stay out here all night."

He chuckled. "And then we'd be found frozen the next day."

"Like some sort of intimate statue?" she said cheekily, and he sucked in a breath. Noticing his sudden flustered look, she giggled, tugging him along with her. He followed her, twining their fingers together securely.

"I love you," he said suddenly. "You know that, don't you?"

She paused, shooting him a puzzled look. "Of course I know. I love you too."

He brought his spare hand to her face, stroking his calloused fingertips against her soft cheeks. "I mean it, you know. I'll try so hard to free myself of Vera. And the moment I am able, I will make you my wife. And then the rest of our lives can begin."

"I do like the sound of that," she admitted. "But I'll make do with just having you back by my side for now."


Anon's prompt: Anna and John after a fight.

John sighed, shifting uncomfortably. The sofa was too small. His knee was already burning. He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

How such a trivial argument had blown up into something huge, he didn't know. Anna never got angry, and she never shouted. But tonight she had done both. He had been too cowardly to follow her to bed when she had stalked away that evening, and when he had finally had the courage to do so, he had found her already fast asleep, her back to the door. He'd considered climbing into bed beside her, but he had been wary of waking her and enticing her wrath further. Anna hated being woken. So he had removed himself quietly from the bedroom, choosing instead to settle himself on the tiny sofa.

He was beginning to regret that decision now, but he wouldn't go back. If there was one thing he was good at, it was suffering in silence. Anna would probably scold him over that.

At the thought of his wife, he heard the creak of floorboards above his head. His breath snagged in his throat.

Anna.

For a moment, he was frozen in fear, which was quite ridiculous considering that she was his wife, a great deal shorter than him, and most of the time was the gentlest woman in the world. But if she was still in a bad mood, he wasn't quite sure if he was ready for another argument.

He lay perfectly still in the darkness, listening as his wife moved down the staircase. Her tread was light and soft. He heard her footsteps pause out in the hallway, and then she opened the door quietly. He tried to make his breathing as even and deep as possible, hoping that she'd retract and head back up to bed, but she was clearly not going to give up that easily.

"John," she said loudly.

He bit his tongue to stop himself from answering. Really, she wasn't being very considerate. He was supposed to be asleep.

"John," she said, more loudly than ever. "I know you're not asleep. You're not snoring."

He sighed heavily, feeling himself flush as she moved into the room. She reached for the light switch, and he blinked stupidly in the sudden brightness. Anna was moving towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"What on earth are you doing down here?" she asked him. "It's freezing."

He shrugged. "I didn't want to disturb you earlier. I thought you might prefer it if I stayed down here."

"You silly beggar," she murmured, smacking his arm to make him sit up, squeezing herself onto the sofa beside him. "Of course I wouldn't prefer that."

"You were very angry earlier."

Her lips quirked. "So were you."

He hung his head in shame. He had thought that he would never lose his temper with Anna. He had promised herself that he wouldn't. That part of him was ugly, and although he hadn't said anything nasty, as he had done in his old days, he had snapped at her. It hadn't seemed to faze Anna, but he had hated himself afterwards for it. She didn't deserve that, not after everything that she had put up with just to be with him.

She was snuggling her head against his arm now, and he started a little.

"Don't worry," she teased, noticing his expression. "I won't bite. At least not yet." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and he had to smile, lifting his arm properly for her to duck underneath. She rested her head against his chest, reaching for his hand.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few moments. "I shouldn't have shouted at you like I did today. It wasn't necessary."

"It's all right," he said automatically.

"No, it isn't. The two of us aren't supposed to be like that."

"Everyone argues sometimes, Anna. I shouted at you too."

"Is that why you didn't come up to bed?"

He shuffled uncomfortably.

"It is. I know you, John Bates. You were wallowing. But I'm not angry anymore. It was a silly disagreement that got blown out of proportions. Come back to bed with me now."

"You're sure that you don't want me to suffer for a while longer?"

She rolled her eyes. "John, it's half past two in the morning. It's absolutely freezing down here, and you don't have a blanket. I'm in no doubt that your knee is hurting. I think you've suffered enough."

He chuckled a little, then caught his breath when she raised his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently. Her eyes found his, twinkling, and he couldn't resist leaning in towards her, his spare hand coming up to cup her neck. The kiss was slow and soft and deep. Anna began to lean backwards, pulling him down with her, and he continued to kiss her eagerly, until she pushed him back gently.

"There's one upside of arguing," she said, moving her lips to his neck.

His breath hitched. "Oh? And what's that?"

He could feel her lips curl against his skin. "The making up part."

Her hand was snaking down his body, covering his lower half. He couldn't help but moan lowly.

"I think that part might be quite enjoyable," he agreed breathlessly.

She guided his fingers lower over her, pulling down her undergarments, letting his fingers rove over her. Her head tilted back against the arm of the sofa. Her legs hugged him to her awkwardly.

There might not have been much room, but they certainly made the most of it.

And John was most certainly right:

The making up was very fun indeed.


Anon's prompt: Anna and John's "alone at last" conversation, without Grigg's interruption.

"So, you see to the girls, and you're supposed to be head housemaid. You should put in for a raise."

"What do you mean, supposed to be?" she giggled, and he couldn't help but chuckle too. There was something about her eyes that intrigued him. They sparkled beautifully when she laughed, he couldn't help but notice. He watched her return to her work for a moment, her eyes focusing on whatever it was that she was doing, and he turned to his own, pretending to think about the best way of cleaning it. Soon, however, he couldn't stop himself from breaking the silence.

"I mean it," he said quietly. "You really do work hard. Much harder than the rest of us. I wonder how you manage it sometimes. You must be exhausted at the end of the day."

Anna set down her work, turning to face him. "I suppose I am, sometimes. It can be a challenge, I don't mind admitting it. Especially with the girls. They're all so demanding. Lady Sybil is usually quite content, but Lady Mary and Lady Edith can be quite a pair."

John nodded. He could well imagine that they were. Although he had never had any dealings with them, from the talk of the others, it was easy to gather that they were much more obnoxious than the youngest Crawley daughter. He shuddered to think about how difficult it must be to look after all three of them.

"I really admire your patience," he told her. "You're truly a credit to yourself."

Was it his imagination, or was she blushing a little? "Why, thank you, Mr. Bates. That's very kind of you to say. And I admire you just as much."

"Me?" he chuckled. "Why would you admire me?"

"For the way you conduct yourself, of course," she answered immediately. "The way that you don't retaliate with Thomas and Miss O'Brien. The way that you just get on with your work. The way that you put up with so much rubbish from everyone, and you never once complain about it."

"Well, not everyone is bad," he said. "You're certainly not."

There was no mistaking the blush this time, and he felt his heart flutter a little. "You flatter me, Mr. Bates. I just don't like to see people get treated badly when they deserve so much more."

"I'm not sure that I do," he said lightly, but cut that thought off quickly when he saw the flicker of curiosity over her features. "In any case, you're a very good friend."

"I'll always be your friend, Mr. Bates." Was there a little disappointment in her tone? John really couldn't say. Just then, however, the bell for the front door tinkled, and John and Anna looked away from each other.

"You'd better answer that," said Anna. "Mr. Carson wouldn't like a maid opening the front door."

John nodded, then rose. At the door to the servant's hall, he glanced back into the room.

"I've never had a friend like you," he told her sincerely, his eyes warm. "I'd be very happy indeed if we can remain friends like this."

He left her then, and she laid her work down on the table, her ears burning.

If only he knew.


A/N: I ended up choosing Martha as a name for a Bates baby, just because I'm hopeless at picking names. Also, Martha apparently means "lady", and I thought that that was a nice shout-out to the "You are a lady to me..." moment. ;) It apparently also means "mistress of the house", which amused me slightly, because I'm sure that as much as she loved her baby brother and sister, she'd be a bit of a bossy boots. :P