Reclaiming the Honor of Downton Abbey (movie fic)
John Bates sat in the low light of his cottage after a long day at the Abbey listening to the others fret over their lack of anything to do, thanks to the royal staff invasion the day before. He supposed he could appreciate their dismay, but it wasn't like he was idle. He still needed to attend to his lordship, same as always. Still, it was disheartening to see Mrs. Patmore denied a chance to show of her culinary talents to the King and Queen or watch Mr. Carson be nudged aside so rudely by Mr. Wilson (even if it was rather satisfying to see Carson essentially do the same thing to Barrow when summoned by Lady Mary). He balanced his cup and saucer on the arm of his chair as he watched his Anna pacing across the sitting room in a right state. Like him, she didn't have anyone taking over her work for the duration of the royal visit but she was as offended as if there were.
"Unacceptable!" she muttered, her hands clenched at her side. "Downton Abbey should be allowed to show what it can do! Otherwise, what is the point?" She spun and started pacing again. "It's just not right."
"I quite agree," John nodded calmly. "For better or worse, our staff should be given a chance to make this visit as memorable for His Royal Highness as it will be for themselves."
"Exactly," Anna nodded. She continued her course around the room, chewing on her thumb nail as she considered what to do about the situation. "We must reclaim the honor of Downton, no matter what it costs."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I am! And tomorrow when we go to work, we must gather everyone so you can tell them how we're going to do it."
"Oh, but–"
"I know! Tell them we'll put sleeping powder in Monsieur Corbet's afternoon tea," Anna excitedly exclaimed. "When he fails to wake up in time to cook the dinner, Mrs. Patmore will just have to take over!"
"Brilliant idea, but–"
"And it will be a bit tricky, but somehow we need to get rid of that uppity page of the back stairs," Anna huffed. "Backside, more like. Anyway, probably best if you tell them he needs to be accidentally locked in a room somewhere."
"You naughty girl," John chuckled. "But Anna—"
"Oh, what should we do about the footmen?" she fretted. "Poor Mr. Molesley was so eager to serve at dinner. Tell them that we have to figure out what to do about them."
"Of course, but my dear–"
"And whatever you say, don't let Mr. Carson interrupt or try to put a stop to any of it. He will protest but secretly he'll be glad of what we're going to do." Finally Anna stopped and took a deep breath and smiled. "Oh, I can't wait to see their faces when you tell them."
"Anna."
"What?"
"Why don't you tell them? After all, this is your idea."
"Maybe, but you agree, don't you?"
"Wholeheartedly, I agree," John stated firmly. "But you should tell them." Anna frowned, unsure of what he was saying.
"I'm not sure they'll listen to a lady's maid," she finally replied. John shook as he laughed at that.
"And you think they are going to listen to me? When have I uttered more than three words to any of them? 'Yes, Mr. Barrow… thank you, Mrs. Hughes… pass the salt, Andy'. That pretty much sums up all I ever have to say to anyone." John grinned adoringly at her, making the corners of his eyes turn up. "You definitely should be the one to tell them. Anna let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes.
"If you're sure," she relented, though still sounding uncertain. "I just hope people don't think I never let you speak."