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Q is for Quiet Man

Some may call it anti-social but Mr Bates just sits watching and listening to all that’s going on around and then BOOM out pops Bad-Ass Bates

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I heard you and Anna are expecting. How do you feel about that?

I should think, like any decent father-to-be and husband... I'm thrilled, absolutely thrilled.

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When would you say you first fell in love with Anna?

I'm not sure, but I think I knew from the day she was taken ill and I could do nothing else until I brought a tray up for her to her room. And I think I knew she loved me back when she opened the door only Mrs Hughes is to open.

What a brave woman my wife has always been.

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John Bates: loving husband and friend

I've done my best.

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He nodded, watching the ever-changing emotion in her eyes, like a battle to contain fear and doubt with the joy that couldn't help but push its way into her heart. "I'm sure she'll work with you," he said, softly, leaning in close. "She'll be thrilled."

Glancing around, he reached down to rest a hand on her stomach, then looked up into her eyes. "My god, Anna... Just the thought of us having a child together... Everything else doesn't matter, does it?"

Maybe he was being distanced about it. Maybe she felt different. But maybe she could see how much joy it brought him, no matter what.

Pregnant?

Anna returned his kiss, reassured by his closeness and comforted by his words. “Thank you,” was all she could manage to say as she rested her head in the crook of Mr. Bate’s neck, feeling safe in his arms.  

She knew it would hurt him just as much as her to dwell on the possibility of the child not being his, but there was no letting go of it, was there? If her child was also Mr. Green’s, she didn’t think she would be able to live with that constant reminder in her life, even if she and John did raise it as their own. And who else would know? Perhaps Mrs. Hughes or Lady Mary would suspect something, but Anna would be able to lay their suspicions to rest easily enough.

"We should tell Mrs. Hughes," she said finally, "just so I can begin to get things in order for when the child’s about to come in terms of work, so they have someone to take care of Lady Mary until I can come back." 

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"Well, here I am," he said, moving to stand close to her, checking around before leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips. "And I missed you too. More than you know."

"I’m so glad you’re back. I know it was just a few days, but I still missed you," Anna said. 

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John shook his head, unable to stop his smile. "Oh, no, I understand completely," he said, in a rush, cupping her cheeks. He'd never felt so overwhelmed... not when he'd first known he loved Anna, or when they'd married... never.

Taking her hands in his, kissing along her knuckles, letting out low happy sighs that turned into small laughter. "We have a lot to do, then, don't we?" He pressed her hands to his face. "This is the now best moment of my life, Anna."

Pregnant? (happy alternate)

Anna nodded, holding his hand to her cheek. “A few days,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just thought I ought to wait until things calmed down a bit.”

She didn’t know what else there was to say. The joy she felt was so great that she felt warm tears pool in the corner of her eyes, and she blinked, letting them race down her cheeks.

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He smiled a bit ironically. "No, I suppose if you want that sort of talk, you'd have to look to him," he said, his voice a bit sharper than intended but still well-meant. "I am glad you and Amelia can talk about something so cultured. She could use the conversation as much as you, I expect."

There was something else, though, something lingering in her eyes that she wasn't letting on about. And it wasn't as if he didn't mean to make her comfortable enough to talk. But... she was so closed off. The best he could do was try and make sure she knew she could talk if she changed her mind... hopefully without making her close off more.

"And you know you can have any sort of conversation with me that you'd like, don't you, Mariead?" he told her, softly, watching her with a careful smile.

"I think I broke it." -- Mariead (nobody-ofconsequence)

Laughing, John shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, I think not,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and moving over to take the tray she’d dropped. “Seems it just has a crack in it. Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He sent her a reassuring smile. “And, at any rate, it’ll still hold silverware, so let’s get those back into it first.” Taking in a deep breath, he leaned down, doing his best to help her recollect the scrambled silverware. “Everyone drops trays, Mariead. Even me. Nothing we can’t manage, right?”

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News flash: man wears white hat.

I might have, yes.

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; anonymously send me a six word story describing my muse.

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(( hahahahahahaha Perhaps it's the eyebrows. Might be why I never felt terribly comfortable with the Jonas Brothers. ))

(( I’ve been staring at my icon too long when I suddenly start seeing Zachary Quinto… ))

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He sighed, a bit exasperated. He wanted to say he could just stay, or that they'd be back tomorrow. But it really wouldn't change anything. "I know, it's quite unfair, but I don't decide when these things happen."

If he did, they wouldn't be happening quite so much lately.

"Listen, that only means that, by the time I get back the weather might be quite nice. I'll talk to Carson and see if I can't get us an hour or two for a luncheon by ourselves. A picnic, perhaps?" He smiled calmly, taking her hand gently. "What do you say?"

"Don’t go, please!" -- Anna Bates

John sighed heavily, a weary smile coming onto his face. “You know I hate to leave you,” he whispered gently, cupping her cheek, scanning her eyes with concern. “But it’s only a few days in London. We’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then leaned back, checking her face again. “I promise.”

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(( I've been staring at my icon too long when I suddenly start seeing Zachary Quinto... ))

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John sighed, heavily, blinking furiously and looking away. Yes, perhaps that was a fear. But that was something he would have to forget.

"It's far more likely it isn't," he whispered, kissing her gently. "And I will love any child that's yours, Anna. Never doubt that, for a moment."

Part of him churned with burned pride. It could be that the child wasn't his. That felt like the worst sort of pain he'd ever felt. It felt like losing her again. It felt like feeling her push him away and not knowing why. It felt like knowing she'd been suffering in silence. It felt like loneliness, locked away from the woman he loved. And to raise a child with that lingering feeling and doubt could be poisonous.

Swallowing hard, he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes tightly and breathing her air for a long moment. He let her scent envelope him, forgetting everything else for a few steady breaths.

A greater part of him knew he loved Anna, undoubtedly, unconsciously, unfailingly. And it would always be hers, no matter who fathered it.

He opened his eyes slowly, tears slipping down his face as he met her gaze.

"I love you. And there is no reason we shouldn't raise this child as ours, no matter what the truth is."

Pregnant?

He stared at Anna for a long moment, letting out a shaky sigh. Leaning in to cup her cheek, feeling hot tears burning in his eyes. “Pregnant?" he whispered, his voice low and reverent. "Are you sure? How long have you known?" A low, weary laugh escaped him. "I.. I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

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He grimaced, tipping his head back. "I've noticed she's very out of sorts lately, yes," he said, looking up as someone walked by. "Seems so unfair, for such a young girl to have such worries..." John smiled a bit distantly. "What I'd like best would be for her to leave service and be a child again. Safe and with a family and, maybe, happy enough to forget all these nightmares."

Anna nodded. "That would be lovely," she said, her brows drawing together in concern. "I do worry about Amelia though...she's barely awake at mealtimes, and I suspect her nightmares are coming back, if what Mariead's told me is true."

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He watched her for a long moment before taking in a deep breath and moving back to his chair, shifting his attention back to his tea. "Should there be anything you would allow me to help you with, I hope you'll let me know," he said, a bit of teasing in his voice but a genuine smile on his face. "I've heard you and Mr Barrow have become close, but that doesn't mean you and I can't understand each other, does it?"

In all honesty, he didn't see why, even now, there needed to be a defined line between what people Thomas got along with and what people John got along with, when they had such a small pool of people to associate with at Downton. It was practically childish. Well, no, perhaps it had long since exceeded childish.

"I think I broke it." -- Mariead (nobody-ofconsequence)

Laughing, John shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, I think not,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and moving over to take the tray she’d dropped. “Seems it just has a crack in it. Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He sent her a reassuring smile. “And, at any rate, it’ll still hold silverware, so let’s get those back into it first.” Taking in a deep breath, he leaned down, doing his best to help her recollect the scrambled silverware. “Everyone drops trays, Mariead. Even me. Nothing we can’t manage, right?”

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✘

(Send a ✘ for a kiss from my muse.)

He bent down slightly, leaning over and pressing a sweet, lingering kiss on Amelia's forehead. How he wished that a kiss could take away the fears and the nightmares that plagued her. Even if it meant everything would be transferred to him, he would do it. He would do it without hesitation and without regret. If he could.

"You deserve all the love in the world," he whispered, his voice low and affectionate as a smile spread across his face. "And I love you very much, Amelia. Promise me you'll always remember that."