A/N: The reviews this fic is getting are making my day, they're definitely easing the Downton withdrawal :') Thank you so much, even just for taking the time to read any chapter.


Chapter 7

December 1926

It was a day much like any other, ever since she had begun staying home.

They woke together, John a few minutes before her – if William hadn't decided to wake before them both, and so ensure that they were up too. Such an occurrence was relatively rare; their boy was a good sleeper and gave them very little trouble, aside from when he had started teething. But now that horrible period was over he could sleep well into the morning. Like his mother used to be able to, or at the very least had the longing for.

She found she couldn't sleep until she woke up natural, not even now when she had the chance to. The earliness of the hour was too embedded in her bones. Once she had spent some time peering into Will's crib, checking that he wasn't too stifled by his blankets or perhaps needed some more, she would go down to make a start on John's breakfast. She prepared something for her husband every morning, enjoying the fact that she could take her time over it and add some variety to the usual pieces of toast with jam or marmalade that they both used to bolt down between readying themselves for the Abbey and leaving the cottage. Every morning, once she had got Will up, she was met with the same exclamations of surprise and dismay from John at the display that was waiting on the table.

"My darling, you shouldn't have."

"There's really no need."

"Some toast will do me fine; you should have a lie-in for once."

Every morning she would shake her head at his words and kiss his cheek, delighting in the gruff rumble that came rising from his chest into his throat at the press of her lips against her skin. She paid little mind to the rumble that came from her stomach as she dished out the food onto his plate, arranging the sacred meal with the utmost love. Today it was a generous helping of scrambled eggs heaped onto toast that was burnished just enough, complete with a few rashers of bacon that she had kept back as a treat. The arch of John's eyebrows as he both beheld and smelt the unmistakable and slightly smoky scent confirmed the unexpected quality of this addition; his wife could be a crafty one, indeed.

"It's a special day," she beamed across the table, bouncing their son on her lap as she readied the small jar of pureed food, wondering whether one would be enough. He seemed to be growing each hour, never mind by the day or month.

John smiled warmly in reply, not intending to argue or offer up any other reason, not when bacon was involved. His smile soon moved into a hearty chuckle when he saw Will's little arms reaching out, barely making the edge of the table, his blue eyes lighting up.

"Not until you're a bit older, son," he said reprovingly, still grinning as he took a bite from his fork.

William's legs kicked out and he began to bang one hand upon the table-top, soon placated when Anna put a heaped spoonful to his mouth.

"He's ravenous lately," she remarked. Indeed it took less than a few minutes for him to polish off the contents of the jar, looking up at her with those big eyes blinking, eager for more.

"That's not a bad thing," John replied, making faces at their boy between mouthfuls of his own.

"I suppose not."

She shifted Will from sitting to balancing against her, his two perfectly pudgy feet resting upon her thighs.

"You'll eat us out of house and home, sweet pea."

He started to babble and shake his head, and they both laughed at his attempts to voice his apparent disapproval.

"Oh, yes you will." Anna bounced him a little more vigorously, blowing a raspberry against the romper suit he was clothed in. "Everything will be all gone, from the ceiling to the floor, and we'll have to go and ask Mr Chirk if he will take us in instead."

"And he won't want to share his food with a little greedy guts," John interjected.

Will gave a cry, causing his parents to giggle again.

"Don't fret, darling, because that won't happen. You can have all of Daddy's bacon before he can get to it, and that should do the trick."

"And I will surrender it. Gladly."

Anna pressed a long kiss to Will's chubby cheek, passing him into his father's arms, her lips curving as she saw how happy and eager he was to reside there. She was never able to get over how natural John was with their boy, so loving and caring and utterly attentive. It was no great surprise to her, given how that was the way he had always been with her for as long as they were able to revel in one another's company alone, but she had known he had had his doubts before William had arrived. He did take special delight in the times he was proved right and she was proved wrong, bringing out that certain little smirk, but those times were rather few and far between. As father and son began to play and started to engage in their own little conversations, leaving her free to change from the nightdress and gown that she was still in, she thought that she much preferred to see the smiles he gave when he was completely carefree.

Just as he was at that very moment.

Before very long the three of them were standing by the door, one past the threshold. The time had come once more to wave John off for his day of work.

"You should go inside, by the fire," he said, reaching out a gloved hand to take hold of one of William's feet. "It's too cold for you to be standing here, seeing me out of the gate."

"It'll take more than the winter wind to stop us, Mr Bates," she answered, the defiance of the statement flattened completely by the smile that rested permanently on her face now.

"Ba!" William contributed, squealing loudly. John leant forward towards his son, his attention well and truly piqued.

"Are you going to see Daddy off, William?" Anna hugged their boy closer, wondering whether he might be encouraged by John's face as close as it was now, wearing an eternally hopeful expression.

"Go on, Will," he said, patting his palm against their baby's arm. "Just a little further."

Both held their breath for a second or two, John's back keeping out the chill that whirled from outside.

"Bababa," Will concluded, clapping his hand against Anna's shoulder in time with his babblings.

Anna tipped her head to the side, releasing a little sigh as she rocked her arms to and fro. "It can't be long now."

"So long as I don't miss it while I'm gone."

"Well," she trilled, reaching out momentarily to pick a small bit of fluff from the arm of his coat, "it just means that you'll have to hurry back sooner, doesn't it?"

There was always a little pang in her chest at having to say goodbye to him. It didn't make much sense, not when it would only be for a matter of hours and they had had to face separations that lasted far longer in the past. But perhaps it was the fact that neither of them could let go of those times completely which caused her to feel that small touch of sorrow. She longed for the day that he would be with them all the time, their little family strong and self-sustaining. Yet there was no real rush; she didn't want to buy the first property that turned up, just because it was available and affordable for them. It had to feel right. Besides they had moved along in other matters – one which was far more important.

The centre of their whole world.

For the next few hours, it was just the two of them.

"Right then, little man," she uttered, glimpsing a sudden and strong recognition of John's features in their son's face, "time to get you washed and dressed."

Bathtime was always something of an adventure. Half the time William was more interested in trying to play than to hold still long enough for Anna to ensure that he was thoroughly clean. She used to fret that he wouldn't like the water, would find it foreign and uncomfortable. The problem was that he liked it rather too much, and not for the purposes it was meant for. More often than not she ended up in the bathroom with a mop and bucket once he was down for a mid-morning nap, but she could never complain. When he was awake, Will liked to help her with the household chores. One day he had innocently taken to putting one of the dusters onto his head, wearing it like an impromptu and rather peculiar hat, and she had been almost incapacitated by the fact she was laughing so much. He understood well how much the sight had tickled her – their boy was so very clever – and ever since had repeated the action whenever he was able to wrestle the bit of material from his mother's grasp.

Her little boy gave her ever so much joy, from before noon until fairly late into the night. He was turning into a night owl, something he inherited from both of his parents.

Once he was properly dried, Anna carried him into their bedroom still swaddled in the towel but otherwise as naked as the day he was born. The bath had put him in a lively mood, and she couldn't stop herself from laughing gleefully as William wiggled about, doing the utmost to distract her from the task at hand – although he wasn't aware of any other intention than to play with his mama.

"Okay, seeing as it's all fun and games, you can choose what you want to wear today," she said, catching him still long enough to place a kiss against a slightly damp cheek.

Most days, to save her from another job, John had thoughtfully laid out a set of clothes for their boy – some days selecting a spare set which was rightly anticipated to go alongside the first choice on the bedcovers – doing so whilst he dressed for the day.

He probably thought consciously to the contrary today, quite purposely, and Anna smiled absently.

Whilst she had been momentarily lost in her daydream, Will had proceeded to pull item after item from the top drawer, giggling as he watched them disappear from sight onto the floor. Anna pretended to be shocked, opening her mouth wide and flaring her eyes. Far from putting a stop to it, her expression amused him even further.

It would be relatively easy to tidy up, so long as he didn't start upon the second drawer. He could stretch well enough but this morning he refrained, perhaps knowing that enough mischief had been caused. Yet Anna revelled in it, finding that she enjoyed attending to her son more than any other task.

"Well, you can't wear everything," she commented as William held several articles in his small but powerful grasp. "It'd be very stuffy and uncomfortable."

He looked at her with a bit of uncertainty, as if he wouldn't quite agree until he found out for himself.

She laughed tunefully, taking one thing after another that he willingly surrendered, folding them back as best she could with the aid of the top of the dresser to rest upon. Their back-and-forth game came to a stop when Will was reluctant to let go of one particular item, holding on to it tighter.

"You've made your decision, then."

When he relinquished his hands she smoothed out the sailor suit, running her hands over the crinkles and creases while William sat perched on the centre of the bed, happily occupied. She picked out a soft blue hand-knitted cardigan to go with it – the cottage was warm enough, but she still didn't want him to catch a chill – and then hurried back, meeting her boy's smile on recognition of her once again with one of her own.

"Mummy's here, sweet pea," she cooed.

She would be there as long as he needed her, for as long as she loved him.

Nappy securely in place, legs and arms through the suit, buttons on the cardigan left unfastened. The only thing missing was a kiss or two. She went for three, lured in by his comforting fresh scent.

Their morning went along happily, William laughing and clapping as his mother paraded around in front of him, perching on her knees to sing and play and run herself ragged. She didn't manage to get more than a couple of chores done, and those ones were rushed at best. They could be saved for another day. She remained house-proud, taking as much care as she did when she used to dust and polish the finest ornaments – rather some time ago in her duties as head housemaid, another life, so it seemed. But she had in her grasp something far more precious, worth considerably more than any china tea-set. He didn't care much about the fact that the carpet hadn't been brushed today, still holding small and yet noticeable remnants of the season just passed, only wanting the play-time to continue.

She rose from her knees, the pressure a little much for the time being, lifting Will into her arms instead, leading him into a dance around the sitting room. She adjusted his arms into a hold that looked like it belonged to a waltz, as far as she could remember from watching Lady Mary dance at several balls over the years. Will was a natural, and she curtsied to him as their spins and twirls came to a natural conclusion.

Once she had fed him his lunch and held him close until he had dropped off to sleep, she had flopped down onto the settee, feeling rather exhausted herself but in a thoroughly satisfying way. She had closed her eyes – only for a minute or two – and was half-surprised to hear the click of the door drifting to her, followed by the gentle tapping of her husband's cane upon the hard floor in the hallway. He said he would be back earlier today, but she didn't expect him this soon.

"I've not long put him down," she explained, rising to meet the touch of his hand upon her back, kept warm from his gloves. "If only I'd have known, we could have waited for you."

"It doesn't matter," he replied, dropping a kiss against her neck that enlivened her.

She supposed that it didn't, really, but she found that she was impatient – probably more than William was. They both knew what was in store, having bought and wrapped everything together, but inside she fizzed with excitement, delighting in the thoughts of how utterly joyful their boy would be when he discovered his spoils.

"Best that he gets some sleep, before it all begins." John's smile was warmer than the fire that glowed in front of them, sending a spark to her stomach. "Besides, I'd like to spend a little time with his perfect mother first."

She couldn't suppress a sigh as he pressed another kiss soundly to her cheek.

"My wonderful wife."

Her arms draped at his shoulders, keeping him close as she inhaled, smelling the winter's air upon him. He gave her nothing but warmth, comforting her, waking all of her senses. He hugged her to him, and she felt searingly alive.

"They weren't disappointed, were they?"

She felt his head shake against the crook of her neck.

"His Lordship understood. I don't think he would expect it any other way." He pulled back, enough so that he could look into her eyes, his arms still circled securely about her. "We do have an invitation to the Servants' Ball."

"Even though I'm not one anymore?"

"I don't think the rules are quite so strict, not nowadays." The smile that had reached into his eyes was wonderful. "That's if you would even want to go."

She pretended to think for a moment, walking her fingers in line with the buttons of his shirt. "I'm sure the Tripps wouldn't mind looking after Will for the night. He likes them, even if you're not too keen."

Anna giggled at the look upon John's face.

"We do have to make sure that he's being social."

After a minute's hesitation, he relented.

"Anyway, I've been getting in a bit of practice today."

"Oh, have you, now?"

"No need to be jealous, Mr Bates," she trilled, starting to sway in his arms. "Your son is a very good mover. He takes after his father, in that respect."

He scoffed, knowing that she was being rather too kind. His hand slid down to her waist, holding her in what he believed to be the correct way.

"I'd better brush up in the meantime, hadn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know if there's the need," Anna said, throwing her head back with a bit of exaggeration, before stepping in closer to his frame. "But I wouldn't say no, either."

Laughter filled the cottage once more; they moved in a more gentle rhythm, before preparing dinner together. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, which was something he only chided her a little about. There would be enough of a feast in store to make up for the lack.

They were resting on the same spot on the settee, John having started to read whilst she picked up some needlepoint, when a cry from upstairs told them that their boy had awoken from his nap.

"I'll go," John murmured, standing before she had a chance to argue otherwise, offering a kiss to where her hairline met her forehead.

She didn't sit for long, too busy with fetching and arranging the presents, lining them along the floor in order of size. They hadn't gone overboard, but she supposed with Christmas having been a few days before then perhaps they had spoilt him slightly. Well, they couldn't help when he was born, and that it would always be the case.

Her two boys arrived in the room, William looking a touch groggy though he soon livened up as John bobbed him up and down in his arms.

"Look at all this, Will," he said, pointing round the room to offer help as Will wasn't sure where to look first.

"Happy birthday, my darling," Anna exclaimed, squeezing his feet gently whilst he stayed in John's hold. "Mummy and Daddy will help you to open your presents. Shall we do it now?"

"I think he's waited long enough," John smiled from his son's eager gaze to his wife's happy and beaming expression.

William sat in his father's lap, doing a rather good job of tearing at the paper on each present even if he couldn't manage to get it all off. His legs kicked out in happiness and his little hands clapped as he discovered his new gifts in turn – some more books to add to a growing collection, another teddy bear as well as a bunny rabbit, a wooden spinning-top and a little tambourine with smooth skin and shining silver bells all around. As he jingled and bashed it repeatedly, little laughs rising up from the sound of the shaking bells, they were full of joy and only a little trepidation at whether they had made the right choice.

"This is a special one, Will," John confided to his son's ear, bringing round a sizeable box from the side of the settee. He looked to Anna as William's hands grabbed at the elegant-looking wrapping. "His Lordship handed it over before I set off. I tried to tell him that we couldn't possibly accept, but he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's ever such a gesture," she clapped her hands to her face as the exquisitely painted train-set was unveiled. Anna wasn't sure she had ever seen something so fine, as John held one of the trains up to William for closer inspection. "Oh John, how will we face him?"

John's easy smile as he watched their boy's interest belied his own sense of feeling overcome. "We won't make it about us, but about William instead. And if he's enjoying it, then we needn't feel any kind of debt."

Will shook the train in his hand, and soon placed it on the floor when it didn't make a rattle, buzz or any other kind of noise. Swiftly, he picked up the tambourine again, and started to hit it against the side of the settee, making all of the bells ring out in succession.

"Or we could tell a slight mistruth about how much he likes it," John added, causing her to begin to giggle quite helplessly.

"And to think that cost hardly anything," she said, shuffling closer to her baby boy, enamoured with the instrument. "Is that your favourite, sweet pea?"

William nodded his head at his mother's words enthusiastically.

"Ba, ba," he repeated, in time with the music that filled the room. "Bang!"

Anna and John looked at each other with wide eyes, in clear recognition of the word that their son had just formed. His very first.

"Bang! Bang!"

"Yes, that's right!" Anna affirmed, incredibly joyful. "That's what you're doing, with your toy."

"Clever boy, Will," John followed. With a gentle hand, he lifted the tambourine from William's firm grasp, shaking it so that the bells tinkled tunefully.

"Da, bang," William looked up at his father, following the movement of the silver bells.

Tears threatened to spill from their eyes; out of everything, they hadn't expected such a wonderful gift for themselves.

"Oh, my darling," Anna grasped onto their boy's hand as John kissed his head, the grin on his face at what had occured unstoppable.

It hardly seemed that a whole year had passed since he had come into their lives, and yet life before was like a distant land. The happiest twelve months of their lives, with such discovery, some tears and plenty of smiles had gone by, almost in the blink of an eye.

The music played on, and with their little night owl they were able to see in the dawning of another year at the very second it broke, it appeared almost just for them.


A/N: I did do a little researching about how old babies typically are when they say their first word. 12 months seemed to be a starting point, so I don't think it's stretching it too far to think it might happen on William's first birthday...