A/N: Either today or next week would have likely been the start of Series 7 of Downton (if in fact there was one), so I thought it was an opportune time to begin posting this fic...it's a sort-of S7, the sort-of coming as it will continue a little further into the future than one series would cover (barring the first two series) - and also I don't suspect it will contain much drama, really, whoops.

Not sure how many chapters there will be in total, but there will be more than 9, and there will also be appearances from characters other than Anna, John and Baby Bates.

Even now that it's over, I still don't own Downton Abbey or any of its characters. I hope you enjoy! :)

Meant to Be

Chapter 1

January 1926

With his bowler hat fixed on and winter overcoat buttoned up, John Bates was ready to face the elements and step outside of the cottage for what felt like the first time in an eternity. In truth, it had only been two weeks. In that time he had gone to fetch things from the village on a number of occasions, insisting that he could manage against the conditions in acquiring all that was needed.

He looked at the world in a far more positive light than he used to – how could he fail not to, when his world was so much beyond all that he had imagined in his wildest dreams – but this morning he could not rid himself of a deflating feeling. On his right side his cane was held in his grip, steadying him on the way – thankfully, the heaviest of the snowfall had come and gone in his time away from the Abbey, and this morning there was only a light frost to contend with.

Yet he was only half complete upon that same side, and his lingering glance into the empty space beside him confirmed it.

He wouldn't have had it different, not now. Even if she still insisted that she would at least like to try going back to work, it was too soon as yet. He only would have spent the entirety of his day fretting and fussing after her, and going back and forth to the nursery in the time he wasn't checking on Anna. His Lordship had been gracious enough in allowing him a considerable leave from his duties and so there really was no option for him. She had told him the night before, and again this morning that it would do him good to get back and see everyone. She was relying on him to give her all the news from the house and beyond it, including how Lady Edith's honeymoon had gone. He had stood rather dumbstruck as she adjusted his collar, bundling the scarf about his neck, whilst at the same time she rocked their son with one arm. The little darling was as safe and happy as he could be in his mother's grasp, gurgling and babbling away.

"He'll miss you today," she had said with a beaming smile, looking down with heart-shaped eyes at their child, before she raised herself on her toes to place a kiss upon his cheek. "And so will I."

He noticed that she was tired, though she never ceased smiling. A different type of tired – one that they were both adjusting to, but were very much relishing.

The walk was so much longer when he didn't have her to talk to, and the sights not as half as interesting. His knee was grateful when he reached the servant's entrance, and he took off his hat before walking through the door. The smells of the kitchen hit him immediately, and he offered Daisy a smile as she went rushing past. It was still rather unusual to see her with her new modern hairstyle, a swell of pride surging in him to know that it was Anna's handiwork.

"Mr Bates!" she exclaimed. "It's lovely to have you back."

"Thank you, Daisy. I won't keep you."

"I just need to see to these, else Mrs Patmore will have my guts for garters. But I shan't be long." A bigger smile graced her face. "We all want to know everything about the baby."

"And I'll be delighted to tell you," he replied, feeling his cheeks start to ache nearly as much as his heart had been in his absence from his wife and child.

It had been something of a comfort to find Daisy bustling about as the first thing he saw on entering. Some things would never change. Although he suspected he wouldn't have noticed if the servants' hall had transformed into a golden palace, so wrapped up was he in his own thoughts, his tread lighter than air.

Mrs Hughes was sitting, caught in a quieter moment, though she soon got to her feet when she saw him.

"Goodness, has it been two weeks already?"

"It has," he answered the housekeeper, taking her hand as she offered it towards him. "Though my mind thinks barely five minutes have passed."

"Well, having a bairn in the house will change how you look at things."

He noticed how the stalwart of the house brightened and expanded from her petite stature, taking on the same air of excitement as she had done the closer Anna had approached her due date.

"Now, I suppose I should wait for the others, but I'm bursting to know," she grinned, clutching onto his arm as she saw him into a seat at the table. "How is he, and how is Anna?"

With those few words, he knew his stoic persona had melted away to nothing.

"They're both wonderful," he answered, his breathing easier than it had ever been. "I suppose you never know what to expect, and I didn't especially, but he's a very pleasant baby. Happy, with a sunny disposition. Hardly ever cries. He takes after his mother, absolutely."

Mrs Hughes's hand went to her mouth, her head shaking fondly in the revelation. "I've known that girl since she was going on sixteen, a slip of a thing. A housekeeper shouldn't have favourites, but..."

John smiled conspiratorially as she lowered her voice and raised her brows in consideration.

"And now, a mother to a wee boy. Well." She trailed off, the idea seeming to be too much to comprehend. John averted his eyes whilst the housekeeper composed herself. "I hope that she's in no rush. These months are precious, and you should both enjoy them as much as you can. Lord knows the blessed Lady Mary can look after herself for more than a few minutes."

"Well, perhaps if you're able to drop by and tell her the same thing," he smiled. They both knew how determined Anna was, proving herself so unfailingly.

"I'd love to do that, if it wasn't too much trouble. Mr Barrow is finding his feet quite well, and do you know, I might even trust him to his own devices soon enough."

"That's a turn up for the books," John replied.

He had managed to reach a peaceful impasse with the newly-promoted butler, and meant for it to continue. It would be quite strange working alongside the younger man as his inferior, but he had been doing it for a few years officially and it hadn't been so bad. Anyhow, he didn't give a fig as to Barrow's sneering and seeking for ambition, not when he had everything he could ever dream of.

"How is Mr Carson?"

Mrs Hughes – Mrs Carson, as she really was – gave a small sigh. "Stubborn as ever. He insists on coming up here most days, though I persuaded him to stay at home today. But I think he's getting used to things, slowly."

"We must stick together, having such resolute spouses."

"That we should," the housekeeper laughed. "But I have no doubt that Anna is in her element."

"She's a natural," John affirmed, so fondly and full of love at the wondering - and that other people could wonder it too - that his heart almost burst. "I always knew she would be."

Ever since she had given him the wonderful confirmation of the very happy news she had been hiding he could do little other than imagine her doting on and utterly devoted to their child. However, no amount of imagination could have prepared him for the reality.

As he shared a smile with Mrs Hughes – both of them having so much admiration for the absent subject of the conversation – he heard the unmistakable voice of Mrs Patmore echoing from the servants' entrance. She appeared laden with goods in her wicker basket, Miss Baxter following behind as she met the cook at the junction of the staircase to enter the hall.

"Mr Bates!" both women chorused, bundling over toward him.

Goodness, he had not been the centre of so much attention since he had been relieved of his wrongful life sentence. This time he basked in it, chest puffed out proudly permanently as the two newcomers to the party enquired after the youngest member of the Bates family.

"You must bring him up here sometime," Miss Baxter said enthusiastically. "Mr Barrow wouldn't mind one jot. He's a soft spot for the children."

Hopefully that would be the case for his offspring, too.

"Anna wants to be back within the month, so there'll be quite a bit of chance for everyone to say hello. He'll be well used to the place in no time."

"You haven't told us how much he weighed," Mrs Patmore intoned, wielding vegetables as she removed them from the basket.

John beamed, being transported back to those first few hours of his son's life. The most precious ones he had known.

"Eight pounds, five ounces."

The cook nodded in approval. "That's a good fair size. Will set him up well. And he's no trouble when it comes to feeding?"

"Doesn't seem to be," he replied. "Anna would be the one to ask about that. I think it was stranger for her, at first, but they've both settled into their routines."

He shifted a little on his feet at the turn in topic, feeling a little embarrassed on Anna's behalf. Miss Baxter stepped forth, coming to the rescue.

"We still don't know the most important thing," she began, a tentative smile inching upon her face. "What should we call the little one when we meet him?"

It had taken a couple of days, he had recalled. At first they were both too enamoured by the fact he was with them, in both of their arms in turns, feeling his warm weight and breathing in his newborn scent. Knowing that he was real, theirs.

"William."

There came gasps of delight from all three women, accompanied by wide smiles.

"William John Bates, to give him his full title."

Anna had been insistent that his name be passed down, in some form. He believed it was enough for their son to bear the family name. His attempts to argue were never best put forward when it came to doing so with his wife; he wanted to make her as content as possible, so he didn't care about putting his thoughts to one side in such matters.

"What a fine name," Mrs Hughes exclaimed quietly. "It'll be lovely to have another William around."

He noticed the two elder woman exchanging a bittersweet glance in shared memory.

"William was Anna's father's name. It seemed rather obvious, when it came down to it."

In all of their joy of having him in their lives, it pained their hearts that their son would not know his grandparents. Two were gone for certain; to the whereabouts of his father he had no knowledge and likely never would again, and Anna only ever talked of her mother in the past tense, though he was sure that she still bore a little hope of a reconciliation even if the flame flickered out further each day.

"We thought of William Mason only afterwards, and it was a lovely coincidence. We both thought a lot of him."

"He'd be very proud," Mrs Patmore announced, her voice shaking somewhat. Her hand was surer as she reached to touch John's arm briefly. "You must tell Daisy of that."

He smiled at the cook, nodding his head and keeping his eyes firm with hers.

For a few moments it felt as though Anna was standing in the centre of the circle that had been formed, much like she had just a couple of days before she had given birth. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to go the whole day without popping into the next room to be with his little family, but the thoughts of them both were more than enough to keep him going.

Soon enough, the sound of the bell to the left of the board rang out around the hall and he was on his way to back to work, greeting his Lordship and telling him the same details that had been previously disclosed to his fellow servants. The Earl took it all well, glimpsing a reflection of himself from years' past in the renewed demeanour of his valet.

His goodwill extended to dressing for dinner earlier than usual, allowing John to make his getaway for the evening. He forced himself to stay downstairs for a cup of tea, though he had barely finished the last drop when he was shrugging on his coat and fixing his hat to his head once more. His cane was reliably in his right hand for the walk back home, and tucked under his left arm was a tin heavy with another of Mrs Patmore's apple crumbles, which she insisted go straight to Anna. She would be in need of the energy, and of a treat, the cook held steady, and he could not say otherwise.

His own treat came as he stepped through the door, the warmth from the fireplace travelling to meet him and the sweet sound of William gurgling music to his ears. He hurried into the sitting room as fast as his feet would allow, his heart near stopping at the sight of Anna cradling their son upon the settee, a shawl around her shoulders to keep out the little amount of chill that had come through from outside.

He leaned against its back with the intent of dropping a kiss onto her head, but she had registered his presence before he could manage to do so. Her instinct was incomparable.

"Look who it is, Will," she cooed as William reached an arm upwards out of the two blankets that covered him. "Daddy's back with us. Aren't we the lucky ones?"

Gazing from the blue eyes of his wife to those of his son, he was certain that he couldn't be luckier. As William grabbed the air with his tiny fist, John caught their child's grasp with one of his fingers, grinning at the strength of his hold and savouring the sound of Anna's laughter.

"I've missed you both," he said, the simple words full of his true sentiment.