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He watches her from where he's sitting, her smiles infecting his troubled mind, and he smiles because of her, even though she's too distracted to notice him.

He isn't sure if it's because the past two Christmases weren't exactly happy, but this is becoming the best Christmas he's ever had in Downton. With the ending of the war and things getting back to normal, it was nice to see some joy around the place. He doesn't even think about Vera's death and his uncertain future. He thinks about Anna, dancing with Thomas on the corner of the kitchen, laughing and having fun. He doesn't even mind about Thomas; he can't properly dance with Anna, and Thomas apparently enjoyed dancing.

Jane is playing some animated song on the piano, and it's a joyful song. John remembers a time when who used to play the piano for them was William; Daisy was always eager to dance, but this Christmas she sits on the far end of the table with a somewhat sad expression. John can't blame her.

Instead, the housemaids took turns with Thomas and sometimes Branson; even Mrs. Hughes joined them once. It was so nice to be here, seeing Anna right in front of him with a smile on her face and apparently no cares in the world.

"Won't give it a try, Mr. Bates?" Branson asks with a grin, sitting beside him. John knows the young man's question was innocent and turned to look at him.

"Not today, and certainly not next year, Mr. Branson," John says, looking at Anna again.

"Watch out. Thomas might try to steal Anna from you," Mr. Branson says with a sly smile, and John lets out a hearty laugh.

"I highly doubt that will ever happen."

"Yeah, me too," Branson says, looking at Thomas and Anna, "She's a good girl, Anna. You're a lucky man, Mr. Bates."

He thinks of a man who has said these words before, and John turns to look at Tom Branson; his tone is innocent, and he knows Anna and the chauffeur have grown closer in the months he spent away from them. An insecure man would probably be jealous of a young, healthy man who would be a suitable pair for a young woman like Anna. And John was, indeed, insecure; insecure about his future, insecure about his relationship with Anna, insecure about his late wife's death. But if there was one thing he couldn't feel insecure about, that was Anna.

John pursed his lips thoughtfully before speaking, "And that's what I tell myself everyday."

"It's good to have you back. She's happy," Branson says, "Do you plan on getting married soon?"

"We've decided to wait a bit more, but I hope it's not for long," John tells him.

Branson nods thoughtfully, "I hope so too. If the girl I love wanted to get married, I'd do it in a blink of an eye."

John laughs, "Then she's a lucky girl."

Branson smirks a bit sadly, "I wish she only thought so too," the music stopped and he looks at Thomas and Anna, who are apart now, "Do you mind if I dance this one with Anna?"

"Not at all. You can go," John tells him, and the young man is on his feet immediately, walking towards Anna. A new song begins, and at first Anna tells him no, but after seeing John's small smile she nods at Branson.

John watches them, and how they stand close together – not very close, but close enough – and wonders if one day he would be able to see Anna so careless and happy like this, every day; if he could make her happy every single day of her life. Lord knows he'll do his best to make this happen.

She glances at him a few times, that huge smile still on her face and her cheeks are flushed and there are a few locks of hair free from its safe bun, and he thinks she's never been so beautiful. Branson swirls her around and she laughs, and suddenly he thinks the air is too stiff in the servants' hall, and the noise starts to irritate him. He thinks only of Anna, and about how he wishes he was able to dance with her like that. Nowadays he only sees worry in her eyes, worry for him, for them, for a future that might never be. She deserves better.

He makes a silent exit, deciding to go to the servants' courtyard to catch some fresh air, and finds the cool air refreshing and somewhat hopeful; sitting on a bench, he knows he shouldn't think about these things so much.

They had agreed to wait – or, rather, he insisted it was best if they waited a couple of months before getting married. He would seem too suspicious if he married Anna so soon after Vera's death, and Anna agreed with him. Still, he never thought... is Anna happy? He isn't sure anymore. Could he make her happy? She couldn't be happy now, not with their situation as it is. Who would be happy, anyway? Anna is understanding, and patient, and that only made his love for her grow with each passing day, but he wonders her real thoughts about this. Anna has always been very vocal about her feelings and thoughts, but lately they both have been quiet, not really knowing what to think.

Somehow, he feels this is just the beginning, and it's not a good feeling. He wishes he could see Anna's smiles and hear her laughing every day of his life – if he did, he was sure he'd die a happy man.

The backdoor opens and the noise startles him from his thoughts; Anna appeared, and smiled at him amusedly, obviously pleased with his surprise. She walks over to him, her breathing a bit erratic from the dancing, and the heat from it now clashing with the cold night air makes her cheeks even more flushed. She tries to make her hair more presentable, but it's useless. She's adorable, and she doesn't know it.

"What are you doing out here alone?" she asks him, sitting by his side, "I looked and you weren't there anymore."

"I could use some fresh air," his answer is simple, "Enjoying the dancing?"

"Yes," she answers him with a smile, "I'd enjoy it more if you tried to dance a bit, but I know what you think of this, so I won't push it."

He smiles back and slips his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, feeling her shallow breaths against his chest. Her hands move naturally to his chest and she looks up at him.

"Are you enjoying Christmas so far?"

"Of course I am. You're here with me," he says in simplicity, earning a smile from her.

Looking at her now, seeing her flushed face and perfect smile, he knows he must have done something right to have her here with him. Vera's death doesn't matter, and neither does his drinking a few years ago. He's blessed, blessed because he loves and is loved back. Blessed because the same person who owns his heart also gave him hers.

He smiles back, allowing himself to be happy; her smile did that to him. Maybe he isn't like Thomas or Branson. He's also sure that Anna certainly deserves a better man. But for once he keeps these thoughts aside – here she is, in his arms, with a happy smile on her face. He needs to work on making that smile permanent.

He looks quickly at the door that leads to the servants' hall – it's closed and despite the cold air around them, he feels a bit warm. It's quiet and he can still hear Anna's now slightly faint breath.

He leans in to kiss her, thinking it has been a while since they exchanged a kiss – work has been very time-consuming and they haven't been able to steal more than casual touches here and there.

Her lips are warm against his, and he pulls her closer, her hands instinctively moving to his shoulders. She sighs contently against his lips when he moves to kiss her neck, while her fingers move to his hair, and his are perilously approaching her bosom. He knows they'll need to stop soon. They've reached this point way too many times before, but never in such a situation – in which everyone is having fun only a few feet for them, and anyone could come looking for them.

It's hard for him, seeing her every day and knowing how she loved him and was devoted to him as much as he was to her, and never do anything about it; never properly showing her how he loves her, how much he wants her with him every day, and every night, how much he longs for her when they can't steal a few minutes to be together. She shifts beside him, her hands moving to toy with his tie, and he shifts as well, his hand moving to her thigh and her hip, positioning her on his lap; he knows they must stop soon, but feeling Anna so close to him, so happy and so passionate is a difficult thing to bear. Their kisses turn out more frantic, and he smiles when he kisses that spot on her neck, making her mix a giggle with a moan; he wishes he could hear that sound every day.

When he feels Anna's mouth on his earlobe, he knows the time to stop has come. He kisses her lips softly one more time, before lightly kissing her temple.

"We need to stop," he whispers, and she nods with her eyes closed.

She sighs and settles her head against his shoulder, "We always need to stop."

He lets out a soft laugh at the tone of her voice, sounding almost like a petulant child. Yes, they always needed to stop. Every single time.

"It's only for a couple of months," he finds himself saying, and she pulls away to look at him.

"A couple of months?" she repeats, her tone light and teasing, "Y'know, Mr. Bates, sometimes I think you're just playing with my feelings."

He laughs and shakes his head, "No, Anna. I could never play with your feelings," he says in a serious tone, "Let's just try to be married until next Christmas. Then we won't need to stop anymore."

"That's a nice prospect," she tells him, another adorable smile playing on her face, "I look forward to many happy Christmases by your side."

He indulges himself a smile as well, "And happy they shall be."