Moments (Anna, Bates)
Title: Moments
Pairing: Anna/Bates, if you squint
Rating: All ages
Summary: Bates finds a moment of quiet in his day. Set in early S1. Companion to Quiet, though you don’t have to read that to read this.
Downton Abbey was not, overall, a friendly place for him. The upper staff were concerned about his fitness, some of the lower staff were utterly hostile, and the family didn't know what to think of him in general. His only moments of peace were found in his room at the top of so many stairs and in the errands and tasks he accomplished throughout the day. He could usually find a few seconds alone to let the stiffness in his leg and his manner fade, and he hoped this trip to the library would allow one of those moments.
It wasn't to be. There was a maid here already, although he wasn't sure which particular member of the staff it was. He'd never been the kind of man able to recognize maids without seeing their faces, nor had he ever wanted to be. They were all feminine forms shrouded in black or grey with white aprons and caps, though at least in the evening the hair color under the frilly cap gave him a small clue. The maid at the window turned and he finally recognized her as Anna. He still wasn't sure what she was doing or why, so he moved as quietly as he could to stand behind her. There was only so close a gentleman could stand to a lady, and while he was not a gentleman by any definition of the word, he honored the guideline nonetheless.
Her interest was immediately explained when he saw a small family of rabbits eating the carefully maintained verge. Anna's face was calm, but there was a slight smile as she watched the animals, and he took the opportunity to watch her as well as the rabbits. She was young, perhaps even younger than he'd first judged her to be, or maybe it was her current activity that made him think so. They stood there until one of the hunting hounds barked and the rabbits ran from the threat, which seemed to pull her out of her reverie.
"Did you need something, Mr. Bates?" she asked, bustling past him with all the industry expected of her and speaking in the most professional tone he'd heard from her yet. He had a feeling she was trying to compensate for what she'd just done, though in his mind there was nothing to compensate for. It wasn't a crime to take a moment out of the day, and her choice of moments made her seem even more kind than he already knew her to be.
"His Lordship requested that I find his copy of Kipling. He thought he might have left it in here last night after dinner. Have you seen it?" he asked courteously.
"Oh, it's over there," she replied, and pointed to an end table before turning back to her dusting with fervor.
He nodded in thanks and picked the book up, tucking it under his arm for safety, then turned to go. No further conversation was needed, and he wasn't a man to speak when it wasn't needed. He wasn't even a man to speak when it was needed.
"Mr. Bates," she started, and he turned to see her holding her duster in both hands, worrying it, but she didn't continue the sentence. If he had to guess at her thoughts, she seemed concerned that he'd go to Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes about her rabbit-watching. God knew he'd never been good at judging the female mind, though, so he might be entirely wrong.
"We all need a bit of quiet in a day," he said quietly, smiling at her, hoping he was right, and the smile on her face told him he was.
It was a lovely smile and a lovely moment that carried him out the door and back into the unfriendly hall.
Pairing: Anna/Bates, if you squint
Rating: All ages
Summary: Bates finds a moment of quiet in his day. Set in early S1. Companion to Quiet, though you don’t have to read that to read this.
Downton Abbey was not, overall, a friendly place for him. The upper staff were concerned about his fitness, some of the lower staff were utterly hostile, and the family didn't know what to think of him in general. His only moments of peace were found in his room at the top of so many stairs and in the errands and tasks he accomplished throughout the day. He could usually find a few seconds alone to let the stiffness in his leg and his manner fade, and he hoped this trip to the library would allow one of those moments.
It wasn't to be. There was a maid here already, although he wasn't sure which particular member of the staff it was. He'd never been the kind of man able to recognize maids without seeing their faces, nor had he ever wanted to be. They were all feminine forms shrouded in black or grey with white aprons and caps, though at least in the evening the hair color under the frilly cap gave him a small clue. The maid at the window turned and he finally recognized her as Anna. He still wasn't sure what she was doing or why, so he moved as quietly as he could to stand behind her. There was only so close a gentleman could stand to a lady, and while he was not a gentleman by any definition of the word, he honored the guideline nonetheless.
Her interest was immediately explained when he saw a small family of rabbits eating the carefully maintained verge. Anna's face was calm, but there was a slight smile as she watched the animals, and he took the opportunity to watch her as well as the rabbits. She was young, perhaps even younger than he'd first judged her to be, or maybe it was her current activity that made him think so. They stood there until one of the hunting hounds barked and the rabbits ran from the threat, which seemed to pull her out of her reverie.
"Did you need something, Mr. Bates?" she asked, bustling past him with all the industry expected of her and speaking in the most professional tone he'd heard from her yet. He had a feeling she was trying to compensate for what she'd just done, though in his mind there was nothing to compensate for. It wasn't a crime to take a moment out of the day, and her choice of moments made her seem even more kind than he already knew her to be.
"His Lordship requested that I find his copy of Kipling. He thought he might have left it in here last night after dinner. Have you seen it?" he asked courteously.
"Oh, it's over there," she replied, and pointed to an end table before turning back to her dusting with fervor.
He nodded in thanks and picked the book up, tucking it under his arm for safety, then turned to go. No further conversation was needed, and he wasn't a man to speak when it wasn't needed. He wasn't even a man to speak when it was needed.
"Mr. Bates," she started, and he turned to see her holding her duster in both hands, worrying it, but she didn't continue the sentence. If he had to guess at her thoughts, she seemed concerned that he'd go to Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes about her rabbit-watching. God knew he'd never been good at judging the female mind, though, so he might be entirely wrong.
"We all need a bit of quiet in a day," he said quietly, smiling at her, hoping he was right, and the smile on her face told him he was.
It was a lovely smile and a lovely moment that carried him out the door and back into the unfriendly hall.