A/N This little drabble came from a conversation on Tumblr held by too many people to mention here but please know that I love you all and I love our fandom. Enjoy!

I don't own anything to do with these characters or Downton Abbey. If I did the whole show would be scenes like this!

It was their half day and they had just returned to the cottage from spending the afternoon shopping in Ripon. The weather had been fine and they had enjoyed themselves tremendously. It was so rare for them to have time alone without the demands of the big house or their own little home intruding on their time, but today had been one of those days.

John couldn't remember the last time he had felt this content. He was pleasantly tired from the amount of walking he had done but the slight pain in his knee was more than made up for by the hours he had been able to spend with his wife's hand in his or her arm tucked closely to his side. And now here he was seated at his own table, with his own paper watching his unbelievably young and beautiful wife fix his tea. John Bates was a happy man.

"Can I do something to help?" he asked, smiling up at her as she stood at the stove.

"No thank you," she returned his smile with one of her own, "I'm sure your knee must be aching after all the walking we did today." She knew him so well he marveled, it was like she could read his every thought, many times better than he could himself.

He pulled himself up from the table in order to step behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "My knee isn't the only thing that's aching, my love," he whispered playfully in her ear.

She giggled and swatted at his hands, "Back to the table you," she exclaimed, "plenty of time for your shenanigans later. I'm famished!"

"So am I, but not for tea…" he kissed her neck but then obediently returned to the table and his paper. "Perhaps you're more interested in tea than your husband because you're dreaming about the blonde shop boy who couldn't take his eyes off of you today in the bookstore" he continued to tease in a light tone.

"What? Don't be daft," she chuckled as she placed their simple meal on the table, "He did no such thing."

"He did, it happens all too frequently, in my opinion. I see the way other men look at you," he continued, eyes sparkling, "they can't take their eyes off of you, and who could blame them really, you're gorgeous."

She blushed and said, "Why thank you, Mr. Bates. But I think you're exaggerating just a bit."

"Not at all my love," he popped a piece of cold chicken into his mouth and took a sip of tea, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

"Well why would I, when I'm already married to the most handsome and wonderful man in all of England? What need have I of other men's attentions when I already have the perfect husband right here, at this table."

"Yes, I'm sure that's the reason," John said in his typical self-deprecating tone.

"I'm not the only one who's had admirers, Mr. Bates." She spoke with as much cheek as she could possibly manage to insert into her tone.

"Oh?" he didn't even bother to look up from his paper and nonchalantly took another sip from his cup. He assumed she was about to share some gossip from the big house.

"Oh yes," she smiled and winked, "the ladies love Mr. Bates!"

He put down his paper and shook his head, "Mmmm, I'm sure. Women just love the dark, brooding man with a sordid past who barely speaks a word to them."

"We do actually. Have you never read 'Wuthering Heights'? Or anything by Jane Austen, for that matter? But don't change the subject, we were speaking about your many admirers." She was proud that she had not let him deflect the conversation. He deserved to know that she wasn't the only one who saw passed his shell to the wonderful man he really was.

"No," he laughed, "You were speaking of my 'admirers'. 'Many' now is it?" He raised his eyebrows, "I was trying to avoid the subject all together. And, pray tell, who are these hordes of women dreaming away about my scowl, instead of getting anything done?"

"I'm not saying 'hordes', but their have been other women who have admired you in your time here at Downton. Daisy often refers to you as a 'romantic figure'."

"She does not." He was shocked his wife would make up such a story, even to tease him.

"She does," Anna defended her position, "if you don't believe me, then ask Mrs. Hughes or Mrs. Patmore. They'll tell you."

"Very clever, Mrs. Bates," he continued to chuckle, "your evidence hinges on me bringing the subject up to the two women I respect the most highly, aside from you of course, which you know I would rather die a thousand deaths than even consider doing."

A look of victory crossed Anna's face, "Then I guess you'll just have to believe me won't you?"

"I guess I will. But we all know Daisy has rather silly notions of romance. She is hardly 'women who admire me'."

"Well, I didn't say she was the only one did I? I did not. There was also Gwen." She smiled at him, waiting for his reaction. She was not disappointed.

"Gwen?!" he was shocked.

"Yes Gwen. Little did you know that you could have had either one of us back then."

"Anna…" he warned.

"I'm serious. There were signs. I noticed them of course because I wanted you so badly myself."

He didn't say anything, but continued to watch and listen to his wife, speechless.

"She often watched you move about the house, much as I did myself. And do you remember when you took us both into one of the girls' rooms when you found me comforting Gwen in the hallway? When she had just about given up on her dream of becoming a secretary?"

"I remember." He was truly interested now. What had he ever done to warrant such attention from Gwen or Anna? He hoped he had not unconsciously encouraged the young maid. He was always fond of Gwen, mostly because she was Anna's good friend, but it had never been anything more than that on his end.

His wife continued, "She commented to me afterwards that you were so kind, and always so supportive of her ambitions. If you remember, it was Gwen who invited you to the fair that time that a party from the house all went together. It wasn't me." She looked at him matter-of-factly, almost daring him to contradict her.

He was suddenly worried that his wife would think he encouraged such affections, "Anna, I swear I never meant…"

"Of course you didn't, silly beggar. That's the thing, you never realize when you are being kind or adorable, you just are. It comes from deep within you. And you're a true gentleman too. That's very attractive."

John could feel himself blushing slightly, "Thank you, my love. I hope I didn't cause any awkwardness between you and Gwen. I would hate to think I caused a rift."

"Oh no," she smiled and patted his hand across the table, "I don't know if you know but that same night, the night of the fair, the night you brought me the tray because I was sick…"

"Oh yes," he spoke quietly, his voice taking on a husky quality, "I will never forget that night." His smile sent a thrill through her whole body.

"Well in any case," she hurried to continue before she grew too distracted by the look in her husband's eyes, "Gwen brought me a tray too, when she got back from the fair. I had to tell her I had already had a tray and of course she asked who had brought it. I couldn't very well have said Miss O'Brien, could I? No one would believe that!"

"No I suppose not."

"So once I told her you had brought the tray and once she thought about how you said you would go to the fair but then you didn't… was it because I didn't go?" she asked sweetly.

"Of course that was the reason I didn't go. You were the only reason I ever agreed to it in the first place. Do I strike you as the type of man who regularly attends fairs?"

"You do now."

"Yes, but back then? No."

Anna smiled broadly, finally receiving confirmation of what she had always secretly hoped was true, "Anyway, Gwen put two and two together and flat out asked me if we fancied one another. I told her I fancied you and that I thought, I hoped, that perhaps you felt the same."

"I felt the same, I assure you." He looked seriously at his wife. He still felt guilty about the early days of their relationship and would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for the waiting and heartache he had caused her.

"I must say," he continued, "knowing all this, I'm glad Gwen no longer works here. I don't think I could face her… far too embarrassing."

Anna decided that now would be a good time to bring up an issue that had been causing her some concern since they had returned from Scotland. "John, there is someone else, someone else who I believe you will have to have a talk with eventually."

"Daisy? Daisy will be on to someone else in a fortnight." John dismissed the idea.

"Not Daisy," Anna said seriously, "Lady Rose."

"Lady Rose? Anna, you must be mistaken. I'm nothing like any of the young men Lady Rose runs around with."

"Exactly," his wife replied seriously, "that's how young women are. There are the boys they run around with and then there are the men they dream of marrying."

"Marrying? Surely you don't mean…" he felt slightly sick and worried at the idea.

"No I don't. It's just a crush, the type of thing where she scribbles your name with hers in a notebook somewhere or daydreams about a future together."

"But we barely have any contact with one another," John argued, "I hardly ever see her and I speak to her even less."

"All the better. She can admire you from afar. And the few times you have interacted with her you've been incredibly kind. I think she needs that in her life, kindness."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're right about that. So what should I do?"

"Just be observant. See if you notice anything. And if you do, maybe have a little talk with her. Tell her you're fond of her and that you will help her in any way you can, like a big brother, or an uncle. I think we can both help her by keeping an eye on her. She's a little wild, but as I've gotten to know her better I've come to realize that she's not a bad girl. She just needs guidance."

"Hmmm, you've certainly given me a lot to think about, any other women who find me irresistible that I should know about?"

"Only me," Anna rose from the table and moved to sit in her husband's lap.

John happily moved his chair back and extended his arm to make room for his wife. "With so many admirers on both sides, it's a wonder we ended up with one another." He kissed his wife's neck tenderly as he spoke.

"Not really. Do you think that going to find out the truth about your past or freeing you from prison were the only times I fought for you, Mr. Bates? I've been shooing away all others for years."

He chuckled and kissed her again, "Lucky for me you're so good at it."

"Lucky for us both, I'd say." She rose and made her way to the sink. "Now let's do up these dishes and get to bed."

"It's been such a relaxing day, I don't think I'm tired yet," he replied cluelessly.

She gave him a sultry look, "Neither am I, Mr. Bates. Neither am I!"