Downton Abbey 1. 1 For Good

**Charles Carson has decided to leave Downton Abbey to help Lady Mary. But he did not just left a house behind but also one very important person.**

**pairing: Carson/Hughes**

**time: 1919 / series 2, ep. 6/7**

_A/N I could not sleep and thought about what would have happened, if Carson had really left Downton. _

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><p><em><strong>For Good<strong>_

"Well, good-bye then." She stood in the middle of his sitting room looking at his small bag, at the wooden box that contained all the personal things that once stood perfectly arranged either on his desk or on the small table next to the door. A few pictures of his family among them, an old drawing Lady Mary had given him when she was a child. All these small belongings made this room _his _room. Without them it was just an ordinary office, she thought.

"You should go now. Lady Mary is already waiting," she forced a smile.

"Good-bye Mrs. Hughes." He held out his hand. This was too formal, she thought but took it anyway.

"Good luck Mr. Carson." another fake smile. She could not be happy, only pretend to be.

"Haxby is only a thirty minute walk from Downton," he told her before he let go of her hand.

"I'm glad that it is only Haxby and not London," the first real smile crossed her face. Yet, the prospect of being able to see him only every fortnight on her half day off was only a scrap of comfort.

And now his expression changed as well. A hint of regret showing on his face. "I will miss you."

"You will manage," she answered but did not mean it.

He sighed, took his box in one hand and the bag in the other and looked into her face one more time. "Good-bye." Then he turned around, stepped through the door of the sitting room that been his for the last 25 years and walked along the corridor towards the back door.

She remained rooted to the spot, staring at the open door in front of her. She heard the back door being opened and shut again and knew he had left for good.

**xxxxx**

She spent the remaining day almost entirely in her sitting room and left it only when absolutely necessary. The rest of the staff was at least sensitive enough to leave her alone. Even Mrs. Patmore was completely absorbed in her work whenever Mrs. Hughes passed by the kitchen. For once both women shared at least some of their emotions. They had known and worked with Mr. Carson for decades, Mrs. Patmore even longer than her. And now he was gone. Gone to support a young woman that did not deserve all of this. He was needed her, not over at Haxby, she thought bitterly.

It was in the evening when she at last fully realized that he had gone. There was no light spilling out from under the door of his sitting room. Instead it was dark, empty and cold when she opened the door. Only a hint of the familiar smell was still perceptible. She closed her eyes and concentrated on it for a moment before it was gone. Like him. For good.

She went to bed early. There was no need to stay up longer than necessary. He would not knock on her door to bid her good night or offer her a glass of the remaining wine from the upstairs dinner. Alone in her bed she wondered why she had not been honest with him when he had asked her if she would really miss him. She had told him only half the truth.

**xxxxx**

"How are you feeling Mrs. Hughes?" Lady Grantham's worried face took her by surprise the next morning.

"I am fine, thank you milady." Of course this was not true. She was not fine at all. Sleep was something she had longed for last night but it had not come. Still, it was not in her position to bother her Ladyship with her problems. "May I remind you that we have to advertise the open position as soon as possible?"

"Of course. You are right, as much as I detest the thought of having to hire someone to replace Carson."

No one could ever replace him she thought. We all know that but we do not admit it. "Will that be all milady?" she asked, always maintaining her composed self.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Hughes."

The advertisement was in the local newspaper next morning. They had reacted fast and so did the applicants for the open position. She received ten letters in just one week. Ten men that could hardly ever replace him. Ten references she did not want to look at and let alone read. However she had to open every single envelope. She studied the names, the age, the height, the former employers. Not one of them was fit for the position. They were all too young.

But she had to make a quick decision. A house like Downton Abbey could not function without a butler for long. So she picked a candidate she thought she could somehow get along with. James Howard. 44. Butler since he was 40. He was expected to arrive at Downton next week. One day before she had her half day off. One day before she would finally be able to take a walk over to Haxby.

**xxxxx**

So much work fell into her hands without him around. She had to take care of the male staff as well, organizing the meals upstairs. They were still a footman short and Thomas was not at all cooperative. He did not care about Mr. Carson. And it took all her self-restraint to not yell at him constantly.

The more days she spent alone in her sitting room, the more she let her thoughts wander. She tried to recall little moments of their time together. Moments that had made her smile, most of the time. To her surprise there were more memories she had safely tucked away in the back of her brain than she had been aware of.

And then the day finally came. Mr. Howard stood in front of the back door. He was only slightly taller than her. Blonde hair, strong southern accent. She led him into her sitting room, offered him a cup of tea which he refused.

"You are Scottish, aren't you?" was one of his first remarks after she had given a brief account of the household in general.

"Any problems with that, Mr. Howard?" she harshly asked not willing to be on familiar terms with him on his first working day.

"Not at all." He quickly responded, obviously realizing that Elsie Hughes was not going to be his equal at Downton Abbey but his superior.

**xxxxx**

She chose Anna to guide Mr. Howard around the house. Show him where everything was located. He would definitely need a while to not get lost in the large house. She had to smile at that thought: the butler of a stately home getting lost on his way from one room to the other. She was being unfair but did not care.

In the afternoon she showed him his office. She could no longer refer to it as a sitting room because she would no longer wish to sit in there. He had brought a little box with him full of personal belongings which he placed here and there. The room had ceased to be Mr. Carsons's now.

That evening Mrs. Hughes did the rounds one last time on her own. She made sure that every door was locked, every window closed, every candle blown out and the electric light switched off everywhere. It was almost midnight when she entered the corridor that led to her room. The door to Mr. Howard's office stood open. He had already gone to bed. She could not help it and stepped into the empty room, switched on the lights and looked around. She touched the old desk by the door, let her fingertips brush along the edge. She went over to the large desk, touched the wooden surface and felt the irregularities of the wood underneath her hands. In a fit of melancholy she sat down in his chair and opened one of the drawers. A small object glittered in the dim light. She took it out and could not withhold her tears this time. It was the missing silver cufflink he had searched for almost a decade.

**xxxxx**

The sun was shining from a clear blue sky. She had risen early, washed her hair and tried out a new hairstyle. She had not pinned the curls as tightly as usual but instead let them down a bit at the sides. It made her look younger, she thought after a glance in the mirror.

Downstairs she put on her hat and coat, took her handbag and put the small silver cufflink in it. She was ready for her half day off. In thirty minutes she would be over at Haxby.

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><p><em>Should I go on with it or leave the story here? I'm not sure yet. This was written at 3 in the morning :) btw.<em>


	2. 2 Emptiness

**Thanks for your wonderful reviews! They made my day! So I decided to go on with this little AU right away (waiting for the Golden Globe results anyway). This is Charles' POV.**

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><p><strong><em>Emptiness<em>**

He had not looked back after he had left the room. He had walked along the corridor as fast as he could, opened the back door, closed it again and stepped out into the backyard. The cool air was a relief for a few seconds. He walked across the yard, still not turning around to have one last look at the house. Only when had almost left the premises he allowed himself one last glance and regretted it the same moment. His hand grabbed the handle of his bag even firmer, his footsteps became more determined. He had to do this now. There was no room for sentimentality. In thirty minutes he would be at Haxby, starting a new life. The third one.

He kept his mind busy while walking. Thinking about the many tasks he had to take care of the minute he arrived at his new home. He had to check which members of staff where already there. As far as he knew, Sir Richard had employed a cook and two kitchen maids, two hall boys and a footman. There was no valet yet, only three housemaids, no head housemaid and no housekeeper. No housekeeper, he thought. There would be no one he could talk to in the evenings. She would not be there anymore. He would sit alone in his new office. Stay focused, he told himself and his mind returned to the list of tasks.

**xxxxx**

He arrived on time to witness the arrival of the grand piano. A wonderful instrument. Black, shiny, huge. It took four men to unload it from the back of the lorry. He stood there observing the men doing their work. Another motor arrived, the same size as the one that was already parked in front of Haxby. Furniture, paintings, a sofa, several chairs were unloaded. He sighed. This house was still so empty. It was only a shell.

He still knew the way to the back door. He had been at Haxby several times when the legitimate owner was still the resident of this large estate. The corridor in the servant's hall was dark and quiet. He switched on the electric light. Though there was light now, it was still quiet. No hushed voices from the kitchen, no sounds of the other servants chatting and gossiping. He sighed a second time. No one had said that this was going to be easy. _I will regret it every minute of every day. _

It took him a while to find his new office. A dark room without a window. An oak desk stood in the middle of it, dominating the room. To the left and to the right there were the silver cupboards. A small wardrobe stood in one corner, an armchair in the other. He placed his box on the desk, his bag on the chair and sat down on the edge of the desk. So this was his new home then.

**xxxxx**

He unpacked his personal things. The pictures he placed on the mantelpiece, the old drawing he kept in his favourite novel. He would take this one with him to his room later. More things followed and soon found their place in the unfamiliar environment. On the bottom of his box he found a photograph. He could not remember when he had put it in there. A group of people looked at him. All in their Sunday best. He touched the tiny imagine of her that stood next to him. She looked to fragile, so small on this picture.

"Mr. Carson," he almost let the photograph slip from his hands. It could not be. Why was she here? When he turned around, ready to see her face, Lady Mary was standing in the doorway. Why did she have her voice?

"Lady Mary." Not Mrs. Hughes. He suppressed his third sigh and straightened his back.

"It's so good to see you! And I see you have already found your new sitting room." She stepped into the office, taking a look around. "I'm sorry there is no window."

"Never mind milady. This is a place for work, not for enjoyment." Not in this house, he thought. He let the picture slip back into the box behind his back.

"Very well. Carson, when you are finished in here I would like to show you your room." The smile upon her face reminded him of her younger, six year old self that had once asked if a butler never sleeps because she did not see a bed in his sitting room. He had answered that he indeed slept but that this was just his sitting room like she had the drawing room or the library upstairs and her bed in the nursery. Was this smile enough to make him stay here?

**xxxxx**

His new room was much bigger than the one he had over at Downton Abbey. A large bed, a small desk, two armchairs, a small side table, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. He unpacked his bag. The little he owned fitted into two of the drawers. He placed the book on the bedside table, took out the faded drawing, smoothed the tattered edges and put it on top of the small desk.

The box still contained the picture. Again his thumb brushed her face before he placed it on top of his book.

On his way downstairs he acquainted himself with the house. Empty, long, white corridors. No pictures on the walls, his footsteps echoed in the empty hall. The black grand piano stood forlorn in one corner. He met no one on his way and it stayed that way until the end of the day.

He had worked all afternoon without taking a break. Sometime the cook had put her head through the open door, introducing herself, handing him a plate of sandwiches and left. He was not hungry instead he went through the books. The ledger was empty. The wine register contained some good vintage. The rota for the staff lacked the most important position. He closed his eyes, covered them with his hand, leaned back in his chair and heard the faint jingling of keys in the distance. He could hear her voice, stern but soft at the same time, he heard her call his name, heard her laugh but when he opened his eyes the room was dark and empty. Only the small lamp on his desk provided some light.

**xxxxx**

One week had passed. They had hired two more housemaids and a head housemaid, a second footman and at last a valet. No housekeeper. The interviews had all been disappointing. Young women, their heads occupied with other thoughts. They could not focus on the job. He was sure of that.

All of the other staff members were kind, friendly, and nice to talk to. Even the cook and the footmen. They respected him although they had only known each other for seven days. The atmosphere was relaxed. Still, he had a constant headache. He woke up with it and he went to bed with it. Only in his dreams they were gone and replaced by her voice, echoing in his head.

**xxxxx**

On the tenth day he had made himself some tea and took two cups out of the china closet. Only when he sat the tray down on the desk in his office did he notice that he would not need the second cup. He stared at it until he could see her hand holding it, her lips touching the china, taking a sip of the plain black tea. He sighed and decided to leave the tea untouched and go to bed instead.

**xxxxx**

Sir Richard had gone to London. Lady Mary had decided to accompany him. The house would be empty for four days. He gave the staff the afternoon off and wandered through the house stopping in front of the grand piano that had so far never played a single tune. He opened it, his index finger pressed a key, the thumb followed. A melody was formed, a simple yet sad tune sounded through the hall. He had not touched a piano for 40 years still he had not forgotten how to play it. But he had forgotten what it did to him. He stopped immediately when the memories appeared in front of his eyes.

Downstairs he tried to forget about this short moment of sentimentality. He tried to distract himself by checking this day's tasks. But a look on the calendar told him that she had her half day off today.

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><p><em>While she tries to remember him as much as she can, he tries to avoid it but can't. And it's again 3am... <em>


	3. 3 Visits

_Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! 3 This third chapter is not exactly how I wanted it to be but I did not manage to write it the way it was in my head. _

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><p><em><strong>Visits<strong>_

She tried to steady her pace in the beginning. It was hard but she managed somehow to control her nervousness. After all, she was just paying him a visit on her half day off. There was nothing special about taking a walk in this beautiful weather to see a former colleague. A friend. A… she stopped the last thought from forming in her mind and took a deep breath. Instead she turned around. Downton Abbey was slowly getting smaller and smaller behind her. In 25 minutes she would be at Haxby.

But the closer she got to Haxby Park the more difficult it became to keep the swift pace up. Suddenly she doubted whether it had been such a good idea to take that walk, to intrude into his new life so early after his departure. The large house, though considerably smaller than Downton, was still impressive. She looked at it from the far edge of the park. How quiet it was. Like sleeping beauty's castle in the old children's storybook her father had given her as a present when she was about ten. She was getting too sentimental and it made her nervous again.

Only a few more metres separated her from the backdoor now. How would he react? What, this was the most important question now for her, would he think of her, appearing at the back door of his new workplace, of his new home. The door was now right in front of her. Her hand had already formed a fist, ready to knock but it stopped in midair and then touched the wooden door without making a sound. No one knew she had been there. She could still turn around and leave this place again, come back on the next possible occasion. But this was ridiculous.

The second attempt was successful.

**xxxxx**

The knock on the back door was no surprise to him. He just looked up from the books and closed his eyes for a second to avoid jumping up from his chair immediately. Instead he rose slowly, took his time, walked along the corridor, and placed his hand on the handle. But he did not open the door. Somehow he couldn't. He would see her face as soon as the door would no longer separate them. He would see her smile, hopefully, her eyes, hear her voice calling his name. Not just an imagination anymore. One deep breath and the door opened.

"Mrs. Hughes. What a lovely surprise to see you here!" It was her standing in front of him a small smile on her face. She wore a new hat and something else was different in her appearance but he could not figure out what it was. Not without staring at her.

"Mr. Carson," he had missed that accent. "I thought I pay you a visit on my half day off. May I come in?"

"Of course, Mrs. Hughes. You are always welcomed."

**xxxxx**

She had noticed the small smile on his face. The one he thought nobody would spot. But she did. She always did and she was sure that he knew that. She followed him along the corridor and watched him walk in front of her. The broad shoulders straight as always, his pace dignified. When he stopped in front of an open door and indicated her to walk through it, she knew that she would see his new office now.

"Welcome to Haxby, Mrs. Hughes."

"This is your new sitting room then?" she had a look around. It was dreadfully dark although he had switched on the ceiling light and the one on his desk.

"It it small but it serves its purpose." He took her coat off. She felt his hands brush her shoulders and inevitably straightened her back.

"There is no window?" she sat down in one of the armchairs before he could offer her one. It was bold but it had always been like this. At Downton. And she did not even think. Being in his presence just felt so familiar in this strange new environment.

"They must have forgotten it when they built the house. But as you can see, there is electricity everywhere." There was still his sarcastic sense of humour, she thought while taking her hatpin out.

**xxxxx**

When she sat down in one of the armchairs he suddenly referred to his office as his sitting room in his mind for the first time, like she had done before. Because it was a sitting room now with her in it. Like it had always been. She wore the dark blue blouse. Though he had never cared about women's fashion he had always liked that one on her. It was so different to her usual black dress. She took her hat of, putting it on the small table that stood between the two chairs. And now he could grasp the difference. It was her hair.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked before an awkward silence was evolving.

"Very much, Mr. Carson. Thank you." This time he would need two cups and he left for the kitchen. Filling water into the kettle, getting the china out of the cupboard, pouring some milk into a small jug kept him busy for a few minutes. He could see her from his position in the kitchen doorway. Observe her unnoticed. How she sat in the chair, perfectly straight back, checking her hair with one of her hands. This time she was not just an imagination but real.

**xxxxx**

The tea was delicious. She had missed sitting with him like this. Quiet, no words were needed. They just enjoyed each other's company like they used to do for the last 15 years. Every now and then she looked up, tried to steal a glance at this face. When she met his eyes they looked at each other for a while. It filled her with new energy.

"It's very quiet here." She said after a while."Have you already filled every position?" She took the last sip of tea and placed the cup back on the saucer.

"Lady Mary and Sir Richard are in London. I've given the staff half of the day off." She noticed the pause. "Almost every position is filled but we are still missing some staff."

It was just a guess but she gave it a try. "So there is no housekeeper yet?" He furrowed his brow like he always did when she spoke out what he thought.

"How did you know?"

She did not. "You are sitting here with me instead of her. Besides she clearly would have stayed at Haxby with you today. Preparing for the next day." I would have done that and enjoyed it more than walking down to the village.

**xxxxx**

"And have they found a replacement yet?" he asked, out of curiosity he told himself. Admittedly, this question had occupied his mind since she had stepped over the threshold of his sitting room. He had to know if everything was in order at Downton. If she had the help she needed although she would never admit that.

"No one will ever be able to replace you Mr. Carson," she told him with that determined look on her face. "But, yes, we have found someone." The way she said it made him regret he had ever asked this question. "Mr. Howard."

"You sound as if he is not up to the task at all Mrs. Hughes." He noticed the frown. There was this line between her eyes, right at the end of her nose that showed up when she was irritated.

"He is young, inexperienced and he prefers coffee over tea."

He laughed. Loud and hearty. It was such a relief and suddenly the headache was gone. She joined in.

**xxxxx**

"Would you like me to show you the house?" he put away his empty cup.

"Sure Mr. Carson. It has been a while since I've last been her." He offered her his hand and she linked arms with him. They were standing closer now than they would have been at Downton. She did not care. They were alone. Alone in this large house-

The corridors were white. A dominating colour. Only a few paintings decorated the walls. Their steps echoed in the emptiness. He showed her the many guestrooms, the luxurious bathrooms. He did so without pride and simply stated the facts. She was impressed by all the modern elements.

"Like I told you. They are right out of a film with Theda Bara." _I'm surprised you know who Theda Bara is. _There was this memory of their conversation suddenly in her mind. One of the memories she had cherished the last two weeks. He had surprised her back then.

"Very modern." She took hold of his arm again as they went downstairs into the grand hall, stopping in front of the grand piano. Such a fine instrument. She let go of his arm and touched the polished black surface. It felt so smooth, so perfect. Everything in this house seemed so perfect, so smooth. Except of him.

**xxxxx**

"It's a new one," he heard himself say while observing her. The light that fell into the hall from the upper windows mad her hair look different. She looked younger with softer features.

"Does Lady Mary play it?" she asked.

"No one has played it yet," except for me and the melody he had played earlier came back.

**xxxxx**

Half of the day was gone. They had not talked much. But she had not come to converse with him. She had needed his presence, had enjoyed listening to his deep voice. She had savoured all the little moments, gestures, touches they had subconsciously shared. He helped her into her coat. She put the hat back onto her hair.

"You have changed your hair," he remarked with a smile. Finally, she noticed, he had said it. Although she had not expected him to point to it. It was not like Mr. Carson to make compliments. He usually told her with a smile or gesture instead of with words what he thought.

"It's easier to handle like this." She was ready now but did not want to go. She dreaded the walk back suddenly although the weather was still wonderful, the air was fresh and the sky so blue outside. But with every step she took she would get separated from him again. Leave him behind in this empty house. "I'm afraid I have to leave now."

"Thank you for your visit, Mrs. Hughes."

Still, one last thing remained but she waited until he had opened the back door. She had crossed the threshold, hesitated, opened her handbag and then turned around to face him one last time.

"I've found something in your sitting room Mr. Carson." She held up the silver cufflink in her open palm. He sharply drew in his breath, recognizing the little piece of jewellery.

"Where did you find it?" he carefully took the item from her hand. "I've been looking for it for almost a decade."

The grateful smile on his face felt better than the loud laughter, better than holding his arm, better than the cup of tea that day. "It was in one of the drawers and I remembered how upset you were when it got lost."

"This means a lot to me, Mrs. Hughes. Thank you." She felt his lips on the back of her hand and the warmth spreading through her body as a result of their touch.

The way back to Downton was not so awful after all.

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><p><em>And there's the cufflink. Decided to take the story of it with me into the next chapter. Good night! <em>


	4. 4 Memories

_One more...(I did change some phrases...)_

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><p><em><strong>Memories<strong>_

He watched her walk away from the house until she disappeared from view. She did not turn around to look at him once more but her steps were lighter and her body more relaxed. At least he thought so and wished for it to be that way. He stayed at the backdoor for another few minutes only to realize that she was really gone and would not return the next minute.

His sitting room was cold now and dark again. He could smell a faint hint of lavender when he closed his eyes. That was all that remained of her. And the small object in his hand. He closed his fingers around the small silver item. Its surface was cold but the memories it evoked were full of warmth and happiness. He let the cufflink slid into the pocket of his waistcoat were it was safe. He would never lose it again.

The staff returned around three in the afternoon, filling the downstairs corridor with talk, laughter and the smell of freshly baked bread. He shut the door to his room because he suddenly could not bear the liveliness. He had missed the hustle and bustle in the last few days as much as he had missed her. But now that he knew how the house felt when it was completely empty except for the two of them, he wanted to hold on to this feeling as long as possible.

**xxxxx**

The walk back to Downton was the complete reverse to what she had experienced in the morning. She had left Haxby with her heart full of moments to remember although they had not talked much, done nothing out of the ordinary. It had just been a normal morning. One she might have spent with him over at Downton as well on a mutual day off. Except that these mornings, these days, she corrected herself, had ceased to exist in her daily routine. Her life was not part of his life anymore.

When the impressive house came into view, when her feet touched the gravel path that led to the house and back to her normal life, she could not go on. She stood between the two pillars of the entrance gate and closed her eyes, slowly breathing, concentrating on the new memories in her head. The quietness of his sitting room, the cup of tea, her arm hooked in the crook of his elbow, his lips on the back of her hand. They had been closer today than they had been in all those years at Downton.

Then she forced herself to walk down the path back towards her life, her work and her home. It was the only one she had. And she had to learn how to live it without him now.

**xxxxx**

At night it was the worst. He had time to think then. Time for himself. Time to let his thoughts drift off. Throughout the day he was always busy and could focus on nothing else but his work. The house still had no routine and there was always something not functioning properly. Besides, Sir Richard was more occupied with his work in London than with his household. He often stayed at the capital for days, leaving Haxby behind, as well as Lady Mary. She tried her best to socialize during his absence, stayed with her sisters, invited friends for small dinner parties. And whenever Sir Richard returned, Mr. Carson was forced to improvise a large dinner within a day or two. But the night was his real nemesis.

It had been four weeks now but he could still feel the soft skin of her hand, see her warm eyes, smell the hint of lavender on her hair. And he saw her face, over and over again. How she stood on the steps of the backdoor, handing him his lost cufflink. The one he had lost on a very busy night over at Downton Abbey.

_He had to change into the dinner livery quickly. Fastening the buttons of his shirt, of the waistcoat and then fumbling with the silver cufflinks his father had once given to him when he was still a young boy. __"You will need them soon enough," he had explained when he had looked at them, puzzled. They were one of his most precious belongings. A knock on the door made him jump and the cufflink slipped from his fingers. _

"_Mr. Carson, they are already in the dining room," Mrs. Hughes entered his sitting room while he was frantically searching for his lost cufflink. "What are you doing there?" _

_He was kneeling on the floor, searching it underneath his desk. "You made me jump and I've dropped my cufflink." He sounded angry. _

"_I will find it. You are needed upstairs!" she helped him to stand up. He protested. He could not serve dinner without being properly dressed. "Then take another pair. You must have a second pair, Mr. Carson." _

_He had but he never wore it when in this livery. But he had no choice and left her alone in his sitting room._

**xxxxx**

"Daisy! What are you still doing up here? Breakfast will start in a minute," she shooed the girl out of the dining room just in time before his Lordship came down the stairs. The house was not functioning properly anymore. It was not her fault. She worked twice as much as before. It was Mr. Howard's fault. He had been a wrong choice from the beginning. He only took care of the male staff. He did not acknowledge her work at all. He was the representative butler, she had to run the household. It never occurred to him that they both had duties they were supposed to share.

Downstairs was hell for her these days. Wherever she went, someone had a question, complained about something, yelled at other members of staff. "Mrs. Hughes, Liz cannot find the bronze polish. It is not where it's supposed to be."

"It's in the same cupboard where it has always been, Anna." She massaged her temple for the tenth time this morning.

"I've checked it. Are you sure we haven't run out of it?" She followed the housemaid, checked the cupboard and found it empty. She decided to skip the polishing and assigned Anna to a different task. It had been as chaotic like this for four weeks now. They all did their best, trying to cope with his absence but somehow it didn't work. They had lost half of their heart. And she wasn't able to replace his half. Upstairs the family did not notice that the house was falling to pieces. She made sure of that.

Before he had left the house she had enjoyed the mornings, the days, the evenings. She did not care how much work they had to accomplish. He had always managed to calm her nerves even when she was cross with him. Now the days did not matter anymore. She was only longing for the nights where she could rest, where she was able to recall all the memories. Some made her sad, others made her smile. It depended on her mood and tonight she had decided to be happy when she thought about how grateful he had been when she had handed him the lost cufflink.

_She found him kneeling on the floor, looking for something. After he told her what it was, she sent him upstairs and decided to take over the search. It was not underneath his desk, had not rolled under the small chest of drawers. She brushed off the dirt from her dress and from her hands when she got up again. It was not lying on his desk either. She turned every item, even checked the inkwell. Nothing. It was gone. _

_When he returned from serving dinner he looked at her expectantly. _

"_I could not find it. I'm sorry Mr. Carson." She shrugged her shoulders and was about to leave his sitting room when she realized the look of despair on his face. "What is the matter?" She touched his arm. _

"_It might be just a cufflink for you Mrs. Hughes. Something that can be replaced by simply buying a new pair. But…" he was so upset that for a moment she considered to embrace him, to comfort him. "…it had been a present and I've worn them for decades now." _

"_It must be somewhere. We will give it another try tomorrow." But they did not find it the next day either and after a week of intense search they both decided that the cufflink would never appear again._

_When she had found the cufflink in his drawer she knew that she should have taken the risk and give in to her feelings that night. Maybe he would still be there now._

In the next weeks she slowly began to realize that something within her had changed since he had left Downton Abbey. She missed him more than anything else. Every day a bit more. She could not forget him. He was not just a colleague that had left in prospect of a better life. She missed his friendship, his support, his smile, his voice. Everything. Still she was afraid to find a word for this feeling.

**xxxxx**

He made sure that the new housekeeper was able to run the house in this absence. She was still rather young but she had gained experience in a very large household. He was sure she would manage. After all, Downton was just thirty minutes away.

Taking a day off was contrary to his usual habit but today it was necessary. It was her birthday after all. And he would surprise her. The idea had taken hold of his mind for two weeks now and it had grown ever since. Maybe he was being foolish, maybe he was making a big mistake but his life had no value anymore since he had left her behind at Downton. He realized this now. And currently he was beginning to lose her without having a chance to change his fate. But he would try it anyway today.

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><p><em>Hope you are not dissapointed that the cufflink story is nothing special. It just reminded Elsie of this particular scene where she almost changed their relationship. <em>

**One more? Two more?**


	5. 5 Realizing

_Wow! You are amazing! Thank you SOOO much for all your reviews! Here is one more chapter - I got caught up tonight by watching tons of Phyllis Logan stuff (thanks to Maple Fay) and it's now again 3 in the morning (almost)... I will need TONS of caramel macchiato tomorrow morning._

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><p><em><strong>Realizing<strong>_

Without him this day differed in no way to all the other days in her life. She woke up at the same hour in the morning, got dressed, had her breakfast with the other staff members and started her working day. He was the only one who would have known how to turn this particular day into something special. But he was not there anymore. She assumed that maybe his Lordship or Lady Grantham also knew about it though she doubted they ever wasted much thought on it. Besides, she already had had so many birthdays in her life. One more spent without someone else noticing it was probably better given the fact that she was nearing sixty. She hated to be reminded of her age anyway.

The morning chores ran surprisingly smooth that day. Daisy had lit all the fires in due time and for a change breakfast was a quiet affair because Mr. Howard had managed to delegate all necessary tasks which was a relief, especially today. She allowed herself some rest before luncheon and decided to go for a short walk along the grounds. The weather was nice and sunny and Anna would take care of any urgent matters.

"Happy Birthday Elsie," she muttered when out of reach of the backdoor, walking along an overgrown path near the old orchard where she knew she would be undisturbed for a while. The old bench still stood on the same place. She cleaned a little spot with her handkerchief and sat down, looking at the large house. She had had quiet birthdays before. Sometimes she even forgot what day it was until he reminded her in the evening, always with a little surprise. A glass of her favourite wine, a simple birthday card, some flowers from the garden. It was nothing special. Nothing expensive. But he had always thought of it. And now? She was alone in a house full of people.

**xxxxx**

When he arrived it was almost time for luncheon. He knew that she would be busy at that time. So he decided to wait and instead wandered around the gardens he knew so well. The roses were in full bloom but could use a little tending. He should have a word with the gardener later. As soon as this thought invaded his mind he clenched his fist and let out a muffled curse. It was no longer his business.

Unintentionally he found himself on the old path to the orchard. He had not been there for a long time. In fact he could not even remember when this last time was. At least he was sure that he had not been butler at Downton yet. Someone had sent there to get the apple crates. It was probably around the time when he had returned from his _wild times_ on stage. So long ago, he sighed. How could he leave all of this behind for Haxby? For his former employers daughter? When did he became so dedicated to other people's lives and lost the power over his own? He knew the answer to this question: when they had given him a home, saved him from a life on the streets, taught him respect, duty and self-control. But wasn't there something inside him that still asked for decisions that were not based on rational reasoning but on instinct and emotions?

Lost in thought he did not notice that he had almost arrived at the orchard. It was a peaceful place. A place where one was able to think and forget about everything else. He sat down on the old bench and let his eyes travel over the house. So many memories.

When he returned luncheon was supposed to be over. He stood in front of the back door and wondered if it would be wise to knock or to simply let himself into the house. He decided against formality and opened the door. The familiar smell, the voices, the activity hit him like a fist in the chest. He stood on the step for at least half a minute before he was able to move again. No one had noticed him so far. Everyone was running around, busy with something.

"Anna!" she stepped out of her sitting, her back towards him. "Have they settled who's coming to dinner tonight?"

"Sorry Mrs. Hughes. Not yet!" he could hear Anna answer from the servant's hall.

She mumbled something that sounded like a swear word before saying, "Well, let me know as soon as they have decided!" and got back into her room, closing the door behind her.

**xxxxx**

It was not her job to take care of that dinner entirely on her own. As smooth as the morning had proceeded the afternoon was not. She leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes for a moment, massaging her temples. She should have stayed outside in the orchard, pretending to have vanished for the day. Who would miss her?

The sudden knock on the door made her jump. Not just because someone had knocked but because of the familiar rhythm. Three short knocks. Only he used that pattern. But it could not be him. He was probably as busy as she was and just because it was her birthday she did not expect him to come over from Haxby. A thirty minute walk was not a large distance but still, work and the knowledge of his inability to grant himself some time off just made it impossible.

She took a deep breath and opened the door and almost faltered when she saw his face.

**xxxxx**

"Happy Birthday Mrs. Hughes," was all he said with a small smile on his lips. She was too surprised to reply. "May I come in?"

She closed her mouth that, to her surprise, had been agape slightly all the while. "Of course Mr. Carson. What a lovely surprise."

He entered her sitting room, took off his hat and waited for her, holding his hat in his hands. She stepped away from the door, closed it and tried not to stare at him. He looked down at her while she stood and arms length apart from him and could not move closer. Something restrained her.

"I did not expect you to come," was all she could say although this was a downright lie.

"It is your birthday," another lovely smile.

"I know," she looked away from him, suddenly realizing that she was about to cry. She would not allow herself to show any weakness. Not today.

She was so close to him and yet so far away. One look into her face was like reading in a book until she turned her face away to look on the ground. He took one step forward, closing the gap between them, putting his hat down onto her desk. He reached out for her hand and took it into his.

"Mrs. Hughes, I would never forget your birthday. You know that." Her hand was cold and trembled slightly. "I am aware of that you do not like to be reminded of this day all too much. But you should make today an exception."

His hand felt so wonderful on hers. She had never realized what an effect his touch had on her. Finally she was ready to look up into his face again, now so close they did almost touch. "What's so different about this birthday then this year?" she heard herself say although in her head that sentence had had a different wording.

"We do no longer work together." He knew that this sounded rather sad. "So I had the possibility to surprise you today with my visit." He tried to make it sound encouraging. Because that's what it was. Something that would cheer them up. Some additional memory they could both share when they were alone again. Him at Haxby and her at Downton Abbey.

"It was indeed a surprise," she smiled at him, thankfully, and allowed herself to take a small step towards him. Their bodies touched now and she was surprised that neither of them made an attempt to draw away. Instead she noticed how her breath quickened and she had to swallow hard before she could say what was really on her mind. "I miss you, Charles." It was more a whispered confession and she tried to read the expression on his face.

It was odd but her words did not surprise him. He had hoped that she would say exactly this. "I miss you too, Elsie." He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to pull her into an embrace. Her head pressed against his chest.

She could hear his heartbeat, smelled a hint of his aftershave and felt the warmth of his body on her check. It could not be real. This was all just a dream. But the sensation that took over her body was real. His hands slowly and tenderly stroked her back. Her arms were wrapped around him. What they did right now was improper and sentimental but she did not care.

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><p><em>I can hear you scream: NO THEY DID NOT KISS. Well...<em>


	6. 6 Return

**__**_The final chapter. Written during lunch break and while still being at the office (does this count as extra hours?)_

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><p><em><strong>Return<strong>_

The sound of the busy household behind the closed door of her sitting room were blocked out completely. It was only the two of them now. She concentrated on his even breath, on the touch of his hands. She had never experienced something like this before and she wanted to savour every moment of it. Deep inside her she knew that this was all she had ever wanted but had denied herself to admit. In all these years the efficient running of a house like Downton Abbey had been her top priority. There had been no room for sentimentality and feelings. When he decided to leave the house it suddenly struck her that she would lose not only her best friend, her companion, but also the only person she had ever truly loved. Love. This word was the only one that could perfectly describe it. She loved him.

He loved her. When he had left Downton he had also left a part of him behind. Her. She had always been his support, the most reliable person he knew, the one that made him laugh and forget how stressful his days were. There had always been this strange feeling inside of him when he looked at her, talked to her, laughed with her. How come he had never managed to get to the bottom of it?

"Will you stay for a while?" she asked. Her voice muffled because she spoke to his chest.

"As long as you want me to stay." He answered, placing a kiss on her hair, inhaling the lavender scent. "I came over from Haxby to celebrate your birthday with you and unless I'm not mistaken there is still plenty of time left until midnight."

**xxxxx**

She could not stop smiling. Even when discussing the elaborate dinner for tonight she had a small smile on her face. Although Mrs. Patmore was not at all pleased and almost threw a plate at her when she told her that the main course had to be changed, she just turned around, ignoring the astonished look on the cook's face and went upstairs to check how far the dinner preparations had advanced. Nothing could put her off today. Not even Mr. Howard's inability to choose a new wine for the main course.

She knew that he was waiting in her sitting room until her days work was done. He would not return to Haxby tonight. And she dearly hoped that he had finally realized his mistake. She could not bear to be separated from him again. Especially not today.

"Mrs. Hughes," Anna came running after her. "Mr. Howard twisted his ankle when descending the stairs to the wine cellar."

For a short moment she cursed this man but she would not let this accident ruin her day. "Go to my sitting room Anna and ask Mr. Carson if he can serve the dinner." The expression on Anna's face was priceless. But she did what was requested of her.

**xxxxx**

There was still a spare set of his livery in one of the wardrobes. He changed quickly and returned to her sitting room as soon as he was finished.

"Have you ever been away?" she asked, adjusting his bow-tie, setting it straight. The six weeks of his absence now felt as if they had never happened. He felt alive again, needed, useful. Downton was where he belonged. Not thirty minutes further away. He had made his decision.

"Ready?" her hands rested on his chest as if it had always been like this. The self-assurance she displayed impressed him.

*****"Certainly." He took one of her hands, placed a kiss on it and left the room, ready to reverse the decision he had made six weeks ago.

**xxxxx**

Quietness. The kitchen was dark. Everyone had gone to bed. Exhausted. It had been a long day and a long evening. She was still waiting for him to come back from upstairs. He had not only surprised her today. The whole family could not believe their eyes when he had entered the dining room. Just like old times, the Dowager Countess had remarked. Just like it is supposed to be, she thought.

She sat at her desk, the door to her sitting room opened so that she would hear his footsteps. It was almost midnight now. Thirty minutes remained and she felt a bit like Cinderella waiting for her prince. A foolish thought but it made her feel younger than ever.

Instead of his footsteps she became aware of a different sound. A faint melody sounded through the empty and quiet corridor. Someone played the old piano in the servant's hall. It sent a shiver down her spine. The last time the instrument had been played was when William was still there. She stood up. Walked along the dark corridor, silently, almost on tiptoes. He was sitting on the chair in front of the piano. She could not see his fingers and how they glided along the worn keys. But she recognized the melody instantly.

He did not stir or turn around when he heard her approaching. He continued to play the melody. She started to sing softly. _If you were the only boy in the world and I were the only girl. _Her voice sounded so perfect.

"It was the happiest birthday I've ever had." She leaned against his back, looking over his shoulder. "Thank you." Just a whisper, full of endearment.

He continued to play, closed his eyes, found the keys without looking at his hands. He wanted to be aware of her completely. Wanted to feel her cheek close to his, her soft voice in his ears when she continued to sing. They remained in this position although he had stopped playing the tune already a while ago.

"When did you learn to play?" she whispered. She thought she already knew a lot about him, not everything of course, but she knew a few things he had told nobody else. His piano playing had been so full of emotions. She had never thought of him as a musical person. It had touched her heart.

"A long time ago in a different life," he answered and started to stand up. She let go of his back, allowed him to place his hands on her hips. "A life without you, without Downton."

"Was it worth living?" She looked into his eyes though she could hardly see his face in the darkness.

"I've tried and decided that it was worthless." He closed the gap between them, taking her face into his hands, bending down, crossing the last border that still lay between them. "Happy birthday Elsie," he breathed against her lips before he sealed them with a kiss. A kiss that meant he would return and never leave her again.

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><p><strong>THE END - this is the "extra" ending because I thought that it could also end after chapter 5 :)<strong>

**Thanks for your support and your wonderful reviews!**

*****(I almost wrote "It's showtime!" *lol*)


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