A new endeavor. I'm not sure where this one will go so as always, reviews, encouragement, help is much appreciated!

The high pitched whistle of the train broke through the silence of the morning and a large plume of smoke rose into the blue skies over London as the train pulled out of the station toward Yorkshire. The train car was abuzz with families, youngsters and the small staff from Downton that had spent the summer in London at Grantham House. Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes settled in quietly to a seat in the back.

"Ahhh…" Mr. Carson released a sigh and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

Elsie gazed at him with a knowing smile. "It's been a long couple of weeks Mr. Carson but I must say I enjoyed our day at the beach, immensely." She now rested her head on the seat back and closed her eyes with a satisfied smile on her face.

Charles opened his eyes and glanced over at her, a smile turning one corner of his mouth up at the sight of her. He reclined again and replayed their conversation in the surf and wondered….

Charles and Elsie had drifted in and out of sleep on the train ride back, their bodies had somewhat relaxed into each other and at some point Elsie had leaned her head onto Charles' shoulder and he had sighed so very contentedly, his heart rate rising just a bit. Beryl Patmore kept a steady eye on the pair, making sure no one bothered them and taking enough mental notes to tease the both of them for the next year if need be.

"Downton next stop!" The train conductor announced loudly, jolting Elsie awake. Charles places a gently hand on her arm.

"Oh..have I been asleep long?

"Mrs. Hughes, you obviously needed to rest. You've been asleep nearly the entire trip."

"Oh dear! I'm sorry, what a bore I am!"

He looks at her. "No need for apologies Mrs. Hughes. I was happy to be your pillow for a couple of hours." Those dark eyes twinkle just a bit with a slight smile and she is suddenly taken by how handsome he is.

The train comes to a stop and Mrs. Hughes feels a twinge of sadness when he moves, his warm body, pressed against her now leaving a feeling of void. She had had two such instances in just a week, the day at the beach, when she had playfully teased him about holding her hand and now. She remembers that moment…fondly…it causes a tingling in her belly that was more frequent than it had ever been. Oh it wasn't a new feeling, no, it had been there, ten years or more; there had been times over the years that same sensation had come upon her. When Mr. Carson smiled it was there. He didn't dole out any mirthfulness, as a rule, he was the staunch butler. His title demanded a certain air of seriousness and there was no one better at it than he. Yet, in her sitting room, his pantry, late at night and only between them, she was afforded the great pleasure of the other side of him. Elsie often thought how privileged she was to be his friend, possibly his only close friend. She had made him laugh, seen him chuckle and drank in those characteristics that made him who he was; that silly side grin, the waggle of his wayward and overgrown eyebrows and that twinkle in his eyes. Oh yes all of these things and more…made her body respond, physically and mentally. She watched him, as he stood in the isle of the train car, there was a yearning inside her and she chastised herself for it. 'What is wrong with you Elsie Hughes?!'

Charles reached his hand over to take hers and help her up. She took in a slight breath when he took her slender hand in his. She had observed his hands for so many years. Sat at his desk and watched him write in the wine ledger, the rotas. His hands were strong and capable, there were no callouses or grim. His nails were white and clean, clipped short. There were veins in the back of his hand that stood out and the olive skin tone made them handsome...so handsome. She looked at his hand holding hers now and she ached to put it against her cheek. They had never held hands until the day at the sea. Yes, of course, they had touched before, many times. Many caresses had come over the years, during sorrow, grief, to encourage and support, to heal. But they had never purposefully taken the others hand. Something happened that day, at the sea, she thinks; a turning of the tide, if you will. She had said it and it was true, they were both getting on in years and suddenly she found herself wanting more. She just wasn't sure what he wanted.

The Crawley's would be home in a day and there was much to be done at the Abbey. The Butler and Housekeeper stepped into their roles once again with the utmost fervor and diligence. There would be little time to spend with each other today and surely no time for sitting around daydreaming. Yet Charles found himself in his pantry later that evening, staring into the dimly lit atmosphere, his mind on her. She had slept on his shoulder that morning, oh how he longed to put his arm around her and hold her while she slept. He had a sense of possession now, he was her shoulder to rest on and in turn she was his hand to hold to feel steady. What was happening? Forty plus years in service, a lifetime, certainly his adult lifetime, spent in service to a noble family, in a grand house. The propriety of service meant total devotion to it. He was the best of the best. His notoriety was widespread; his name was known in this business of service. All of that was lost on him; it mattered to him to do his job well, to run Downton and his staff with the utmost skill and her. Elsie Hughes mattered to him.

She knocked lightly at his door then opened it before he could reply. He turned his chair to face his desk with the illusion he was working. "Ah..come in Mrs. Hughes." He diverted his eyes from looking directly at her, his thoughts were heavy with her and he was fearful he might be transparent for some reason.

"You fancy a sherry?"

"Everyone gone up?"

"Yes, just now. I know it's been a busy day, if you want to take a rain check, I understand." She offers but hopes he accepts.

"Surely. I would love to have a sherry." He closes the undone wine ledger and leaves his chair. Why was his heart racing, his hands perspiring? They had done this a thousand times over. She had on that dress with the orange embroidery, the scalloped collar; lower than some of her dresses. He loosened his own collar a bit, was it hot in here?

Charles laughed heartily and took another sip of his sherry. Elsie lowered her eyes, embarrassed that he might notice her blush. The tingle, that twinge of…what is it? Fear? Desire? Want? "It's good to see you laugh, Mr. Carson." She smiled sweetly at him and she is bold enough to hold his gaze for a moment.

He smiled and nodded slightly. "It feels good Mrs. Hughes…this feels good." His tone is soft and low. They both looked away from one another, nervously drinking from their sherry. 'Good god man…what are you doing?' Mr. Carson silently berated himself. Yes, it was true; his feelings for Elsie Hughes had been exposed in the last week. It was like a damn had opened inside him, that day at the sea. He had thought of little else. Her words, her encouragement to hold on to him, to rely on her to feel steady. Hadn't that what he has done for so many years? Elsie was truly the strong one of them both; her ability to bend with the changing tide, her keen intuition of each and every servant under their tutelage. These were qualities that made her great at what she did and the only person, on the earth, that could get to him. The walls that had been constructed by Charles Carson were like anything else he did, strong and resilient. There were few cracks yet Elsie had managed to find them and she had slowly chipped her way into his heart.

"What is it?" Elsie could tell Charles was deep in thought and possibly struggling with something on his mind. "You know you can tell me." She had lightened her tone. It was that same tone from the beach.

He looked at this woman who had been by his side, really, unlike anyone else in his life. He cherished her, these times, these moments spent alone. He was able to let his guard down a bit and that meant something. These thoughts were rushing through his mind, at the moment. He was almost in physical pain with the desire to tell her how he was feeling. "Mrs. Hughes? I wonder if we might take a walk outside…"

"Now?" She asked quizzically.

"You see, I'm a little hot and need a bit of fresh air." He took in a deep breath, not sure what he was even asking for.

"Well…yes…I suppose…we could step out for a moment."

They leave his pantry and walk to the back door. He removes his suit coat and hangs it on the tack inside the door. "Thank you for obliging me, I just got a little warm and felt the night air might feel good."

He was right. The days had been hot, for it was the end of summer but the nights had turned cooler. The sky was clear and the stars were bright along with a brilliant moon that cast a wonderful glow of light across the property.

"Ah…Mr. Carson, it's beautiful out here." Elsie stared up and Charles watched her; the curve of her jawline and her slender neck silhouetted against the moonlight causes a stirring in his loins and he begins to worry.