Happy belated birthday Escapedvelocity
I'm totally late, but here's a tiny stand alone Bates/Anna fanfic I wrote for escapedvelocity. Thank you for being a lovely member of both of my fandoms. :) Hope you had a nice day.
Title: Simple Pleasures
Rated: T
Pairing: Anna/Bates
Anna sighed and lowered herself into one of the kitchen chairs.
She was exhausted. Perhaps she was getting old, she considered with a small chuckle.
Her mirth disappeared, however, when Daisy placed a dinner plate down in front of her.
“Oh, steak and kidney pie,” she said, disappointed.
“What?” Mrs Patmore screeched from behind Mr Carson, where she was stirring the soup the family would be served for their first course.
“I just said, it’s steak and kidney pie, Mrs Patmore.”
She needed to remember Mrs Patmore was having trouble with her eyesight, not her hearing.
“Of course it is, girl. It’s the first Tuesday. First Tuesday of every month we have steak and kidney pie.”
“I forgot.”
She looked around the table. Her fellow diners were eagerly tucking in, ignoring her fastidiousness, except for one. One person was watching her intently; noting that this meal was not to her liking.
His dark eyes followed her movements: the way she picked disinterestedly at the crust of the pie before dipping a meagre amount of the pastry into the rich gravy and chewing on it slowly; the way she carefully avoided the meat; the way she sipped on her water between each bite.
She resolutely avoided glancing up; fearful her feelings would be evident to the others if her eyes should meet his across the table. Still, she knew he was continuing with his scrutiny. She liked it.
For once, she was pleased when Mr Carson announced the family’s dinner was ready to be served, and everyone scuttled into action.
Afterwards, she excused herself early, and returned to her and Gwen’s room. Gwen had remained in the kitchen, reading and talking with the rest of the staff. She usually stayed behind as well, but tonight she was eager to be alone with her thoughts.
She changed into her night attire and lay on her bed, staying up at the ceiling’s peeling paint.
Today was her twenty-seventh birthday. She had always thought she would have left the service by now. She had thought she would be married, have a child -- maybe even more than one. She knew she would never live anywhere grand, but she had always imagined herself housed in a simple yet pretty cottage, flowers growing along its front wall and a vegetable patch out the back, before her twenty-fifth birthday. Not sharing a small sparsely furnished room some two years later.
Her musing was interrupted by a knock on the door.
She opened it a crack and peered out. Her heart rate increased immediately when she saw who her late night visitor was. He was balancing a tray.
“May I come in; put this down?”
“Mr Bates, you can’t be here,” she said, standing back and allowing him to enter her room nevertheless.
He placed the tray on the end of her bed and removed one of the two tea towels that were covering its contents.
“Some crusty bread, a thick slab of butter and a bowl of jam,” he said. “And a pot of tea to wash it all down,” he added.
“I am famished,” she admitted, spreading a generous amount of butter and jam onto the bread.
She broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth, sighing contentedly as she chewed.
“I’m not surprised you’re hungry,” he remarked. “Considering how little you ate this evening.”
He poured her a cup of tea, adding the exact amount of sugar and milk she favoured.
“Would you like to join me? In a cup?” she asked when he passed her the hot drink.
“No, I should be going. Mrs Hughes assured me she’d be sending up Mr Carson with a rifle if I was any longer than fifteen minutes.”
Anna giggled.
“And here I thought you’d snuck past her.”
“No. I suggested she bring up the tray actually. But she told me that you deserved a tiny bit of spoiling today.”
“Oh,” she said breathlessly, dipping her head so he couldn’t see her blush.
They both stood and she escorted him to her door.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For thinking of me.”
He turned and his eyes travelled up and down her body, his gaze lingering on her soft curves just visible through her white nightgown.
“I truly can’t remember a time when I wasn’t thinking of you,” he said, bending his head and brushing his lips across hers softly.
She smiled serenely and closed her eyes, his kiss spreading warmth through her entire body.
Eventually, reluctantly, she opened her eyes. One of his hands clutched the door handle, while the other leaned heavily on his walking stick.
“I must go,” he rasped out.
“Goodnight, Mr Bates.”
He turned to leave, and then, suddenly, he turned back and gathered her into his arms. She let out a tiny squeak as his mouth found hers again. This time it was no small gentle kiss. This time his lips were demanding a response. She began to tremble in his arms, the warmth of his earlier kiss transforming itself into an intense heat.
She heard his stick clatter to the ground and his hands were then gripping her hips, dragging her close so their lower bodies moulded together.
He groaned when she raised herself onto her tiptoes, her hands creeping up to wind around his neck as she opened her mouth to encourage him further.
She felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She gasped and jerked in his arms, surprised by this added intimacy.
He lifted his head and stumbled back awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She gulped, and bit her bottom lip, which was swollen from the intensity of their kiss.
He slowly bent to retrieve his walking stick.
“I’m sorry,” he said again once he was upright.
“Mr Bates…”
“Finish your supper,” he orderly softly.
Her only response was to nod mutely.
He turned to leave, but she quickly reached out and grasped his arm, unconsciously caressing the hard muscles she felt beneath the jacket’s sleeve.
“Thank you, Mr Bates.”
He covered her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
Then, he bent down and touched her nose with his. “Happy birthday, my love,” he murmured.
She stared up at him, surprised not only by the endearment, but by his knowledge of her special day. His dimples just deepened when she flashed him a questioning look.
“Look under the other tea towel,” he said cryptically before turning and making his way down the hallway towards the men’s section of the attics.
Dreamily closing the door behind her, she returned to her small bed and lifted up the second tea towel.
Beneath it lay the most perfect birthday gift she had ever received.
She lifted the dark red rose, running it over her lips and breathing in its heady perfume.
“Thank you, Mr Bates,” she whispered. “My love.”
Title: Simple Pleasures
Rated: T
Pairing: Anna/Bates
Anna sighed and lowered herself into one of the kitchen chairs.
She was exhausted. Perhaps she was getting old, she considered with a small chuckle.
Her mirth disappeared, however, when Daisy placed a dinner plate down in front of her.
“Oh, steak and kidney pie,” she said, disappointed.
“What?” Mrs Patmore screeched from behind Mr Carson, where she was stirring the soup the family would be served for their first course.
“I just said, it’s steak and kidney pie, Mrs Patmore.”
She needed to remember Mrs Patmore was having trouble with her eyesight, not her hearing.
“Of course it is, girl. It’s the first Tuesday. First Tuesday of every month we have steak and kidney pie.”
“I forgot.”
She looked around the table. Her fellow diners were eagerly tucking in, ignoring her fastidiousness, except for one. One person was watching her intently; noting that this meal was not to her liking.
His dark eyes followed her movements: the way she picked disinterestedly at the crust of the pie before dipping a meagre amount of the pastry into the rich gravy and chewing on it slowly; the way she carefully avoided the meat; the way she sipped on her water between each bite.
She resolutely avoided glancing up; fearful her feelings would be evident to the others if her eyes should meet his across the table. Still, she knew he was continuing with his scrutiny. She liked it.
For once, she was pleased when Mr Carson announced the family’s dinner was ready to be served, and everyone scuttled into action.
Afterwards, she excused herself early, and returned to her and Gwen’s room. Gwen had remained in the kitchen, reading and talking with the rest of the staff. She usually stayed behind as well, but tonight she was eager to be alone with her thoughts.
She changed into her night attire and lay on her bed, staying up at the ceiling’s peeling paint.
Today was her twenty-seventh birthday. She had always thought she would have left the service by now. She had thought she would be married, have a child -- maybe even more than one. She knew she would never live anywhere grand, but she had always imagined herself housed in a simple yet pretty cottage, flowers growing along its front wall and a vegetable patch out the back, before her twenty-fifth birthday. Not sharing a small sparsely furnished room some two years later.
Her musing was interrupted by a knock on the door.
She opened it a crack and peered out. Her heart rate increased immediately when she saw who her late night visitor was. He was balancing a tray.
“May I come in; put this down?”
“Mr Bates, you can’t be here,” she said, standing back and allowing him to enter her room nevertheless.
He placed the tray on the end of her bed and removed one of the two tea towels that were covering its contents.
“Some crusty bread, a thick slab of butter and a bowl of jam,” he said. “And a pot of tea to wash it all down,” he added.
“I am famished,” she admitted, spreading a generous amount of butter and jam onto the bread.
She broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth, sighing contentedly as she chewed.
“I’m not surprised you’re hungry,” he remarked. “Considering how little you ate this evening.”
He poured her a cup of tea, adding the exact amount of sugar and milk she favoured.
“Would you like to join me? In a cup?” she asked when he passed her the hot drink.
“No, I should be going. Mrs Hughes assured me she’d be sending up Mr Carson with a rifle if I was any longer than fifteen minutes.”
Anna giggled.
“And here I thought you’d snuck past her.”
“No. I suggested she bring up the tray actually. But she told me that you deserved a tiny bit of spoiling today.”
“Oh,” she said breathlessly, dipping her head so he couldn’t see her blush.
They both stood and she escorted him to her door.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For thinking of me.”
He turned and his eyes travelled up and down her body, his gaze lingering on her soft curves just visible through her white nightgown.
“I truly can’t remember a time when I wasn’t thinking of you,” he said, bending his head and brushing his lips across hers softly.
She smiled serenely and closed her eyes, his kiss spreading warmth through her entire body.
Eventually, reluctantly, she opened her eyes. One of his hands clutched the door handle, while the other leaned heavily on his walking stick.
“I must go,” he rasped out.
“Goodnight, Mr Bates.”
He turned to leave, and then, suddenly, he turned back and gathered her into his arms. She let out a tiny squeak as his mouth found hers again. This time it was no small gentle kiss. This time his lips were demanding a response. She began to tremble in his arms, the warmth of his earlier kiss transforming itself into an intense heat.
She heard his stick clatter to the ground and his hands were then gripping her hips, dragging her close so their lower bodies moulded together.
He groaned when she raised herself onto her tiptoes, her hands creeping up to wind around his neck as she opened her mouth to encourage him further.
She felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She gasped and jerked in his arms, surprised by this added intimacy.
He lifted his head and stumbled back awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She gulped, and bit her bottom lip, which was swollen from the intensity of their kiss.
He slowly bent to retrieve his walking stick.
“I’m sorry,” he said again once he was upright.
“Mr Bates…”
“Finish your supper,” he orderly softly.
Her only response was to nod mutely.
He turned to leave, but she quickly reached out and grasped his arm, unconsciously caressing the hard muscles she felt beneath the jacket’s sleeve.
“Thank you, Mr Bates.”
He covered her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
Then, he bent down and touched her nose with his. “Happy birthday, my love,” he murmured.
She stared up at him, surprised not only by the endearment, but by his knowledge of her special day. His dimples just deepened when she flashed him a questioning look.
“Look under the other tea towel,” he said cryptically before turning and making his way down the hallway towards the men’s section of the attics.
Dreamily closing the door behind her, she returned to her small bed and lifted up the second tea towel.
Beneath it lay the most perfect birthday gift she had ever received.
She lifted the dark red rose, running it over her lips and breathing in its heady perfume.
“Thank you, Mr Bates,” she whispered. “My love.”