Title: Just Imagine
Author: tarotgal
Rating: G
Fandom: Downton Abbey
Disclaimer: Not my characters or world. I’ve got nothing to do with it and get no money from it.
Summary: Bates is feeling a bit under the weather.
Notes: It was a snow day today so I wrote this snow drabble!

Just Imagine

John Bates could not remember such a cold, damp winter. He felt it in his bones and, more annoyingly, in his leg. His limp was more pronounced in this weather, though he did his very best to hide it. That was certainly easier said than done, considering that colder weather meant more layers and more of Lord Grantham’s clothes to set out and care for. The fires about Downton Abbey had to be fed continually, allowing them to give not just light but much-needed warmth. He was constantly on his feet, on the move. He should have, therefore, been grateful for the illness that took up residence in his head.

A handkerchief rested on the blankets covering his heaving chest. His breath was thick, heavy, deep while he drifted in and out of sleep. But when a sneeze came upon him, his breath caught and hitched in short, uneven gasps. It wasn’t until his nose wrinkled at the bridge that he dared allow his hand to venture out from beneath the warm blankets and take up the hanky. “heffff… hhhh’Churfffff!” His sneezes were deep, wet, and perfectly miserable, every one. Only each sneeze seemed to tickle his nose more, causing a half dozen others to come, along with sniffles and coughs and a general feeling of fuzzy fullness in his whole head.

Bates reached down and rubbed his leg, glad to give it a chance to rest a bit. But he wasn’t sure this little bit of rest was a good thing for him at all. He liked his job, liked doing his best at his work, and liked having work to do. Instead, he lay in his bed, barely warm enough beneath the Spartan blankets, imagining what Thomas was doing in his absence. Thomas had been gunning for his job ever since Bates’ arrival, and Bates had seen the glimmer of satisfaction in the young footman’s eyes when Carson had told him he could look after Lord Grantham while Bates was ill. The man was difficult to like on a good day; getting what he most wanted would make him unbearable to be around. At least Bates was stuck in bed and would not have to bear witness to that.

A knock to the door just as he was drifting off made him jump. He groaned to himself, not really wanting to get up for anything. Another knock came, sounding more earnest. So Bates threw himself out of bed with all the grace of a steamer trunk packed full of bricks. He grabbed his cane and leaned upon it greatly as he limped across his small room. He coughed to clear his throat somewhat before he gripped the doorknob and answered the knock.

William stood there, looking nervous, and holding a tray. A thick plaid blanket was draped over one of his arms as well. “Mister Bates,” William said, his voice soft, as if he were worried about being overheard. But there was absolutely no one in the hallway. When Bates did not immediately take the tray from him, William prodded. “I’ve brought something to help you feel better.”

“Oh, yes.” He took a step back, wobbled, and caught himself thanks to his cane and the wall. William hadn’t noticed as he entered the room and set the tray down on the bed, the spare blanket alongside it.

Bates went over and removed the cover. The spread was delightful, steaming hot and garnished with berries and a white winter flower. Surprised, he looked at William. He hadn’t expected a meal at all, but he certainly had not suspected this of the man. It was true the man had needed some guidance where romance was concerned, but the man hadn’t struck him as a dandy.

“Oh, it’s not from me!” William said, quick to read Bates’ expression. “They’re from Miss Smith, of course.” He went a bit red in the cheeks. “Though she did make me promise not to reveal that secret.”

“A secret which you made no effort to keep.” Bates raised his eyebrows. “Remind me in the future to not to confide in you.”

He smiled and shook his head. With a bit of a chuckle and a voice even softer yet, “In truth she told me to tell you, but she wanted it to seem as though it were a secret, as though she didn’t really want the credit. I reckon she fancies you.” Then, quickly, “Though it isn’t my place to say so.”

Bates nodded. “Thank you, William. I… I-heh…” The handkerchief he had been using was across the bed, lost within the tangle of blankets and bedsheets.

Quick as a cat and better equipped, William pulled his handkerchief out and handed it over.

“Th-thah… hah-H’fshuhhhhh!”

“God bless.”

Bates nodded tiredly, his nostrils twitching within the folds of cloth he held to his face. “hehShuhhh! heffChhh! Herschhhhh! Heh-h’fshhhh! Heh-Shihhhh! H’shehhhh-ktchhhh!” Attempting to keep his balance on his feet while being thrown forward with sneezes was difficult. He very nearly turned and sat upon his dinner. Instead, he sat on the very end, narrowly missing the tray. When he was done sneezing, he wiped his nose repeatedly, snuffling, closing his eyes. “Please pardon me,” he said weakly, when he had regained his voice. He lowered the handkerchief, and folded it. “And thank you.” He nodded. “I will see it’s washed and returned to you.”

“Naturally,” said William, waving dismissively at it. “I wish you a speedy recovery.”

 “I can imagine you might. Thomas must be insufferable in my absence.”

“You haven’t heard then?”

Bates shook his head.

“Thomas came down ill less than a day after you. Sneezed in his lordship’s face. It was quite a display.”

He tried to keep his lips pressed tightly together. But he couldn’t help it. The image was too good. He started laughing, arm at his waist, doubling over. Tears sprung to his eyes.

Luckily, William joined in as well. “Carson removed him at once, of course, and dinner came to an abrupt end.”

“It happened during dinner?” Bates shook with laughter, unable to stop. He knew it was rather terrible to laugh at someone’s misfortune. And had it been anyone apart from Thomas, it would be a tragedy. But, as it was, he did not feel too guilty about it. “How… unfortunate…” He wiped the tears from his eyes with the corner of the handkerchief.

“It is, isn’t it?” William’s laughter died down slowly, along with Bates’. “You had better see to that meal before it grows cold.”

“Yes. Thank you.” He waited for William to leave before pulling the blanket over. He wrapped it around his shoulders before dragging the tray to his lap. If he had had a lapel, the flower would have found a place there immediately. But as he was wearing only an undershirt, he merely held it in one hand as he ate with the other. He knew Anna was repaying a kindness he had once shown her. And he knew what their feelings for each other must remain. But as he watched it twirl between his fingers, Bates imagined something far different from what had occupied his mind before.