So this originally was just a one shot for Lovely Moments, but a number of people requested that it become a story on its own. And I am weak willed when it comes to story requests. So swinging sixties, here we come. Reviews appreciated.

Cause he gets up in the morning

And he goes to work at nine,

And he comes back home at five-thirty,

Gets the same train every time.

Cause his world is built round punctuality,

It never fails.

- A Well Respected Man – The Kinks

Anthony Strallan lived a very solitary life. And he liked it that way… well, he tolerated the lifestyle. What else was he going to do? At 50 he was a widower, he was also well off and retired from practicing law. Although, to keep himself busy, he accepted a faculty position at the university. Teaching law to young men who were either looking for prosperity or excitement, or both. Anthony couldn't remember the last time the word excitement could be used to describe any part of his day. It was exciting that he still got up in the morning. It was a quiet life, lonely, repetitive.

"Anthony?" His secretary interrupted his train of thought, pulling him away from the window he was staring out of. Watching students running about the square between classes always seemed to distract him. Thinking of all the promise he had as a young man, all the things he had hoped to experience, husband and father appeared to not be in the cards. Maude and baby David didn't last long in this world, the latter dying almost immediately after being born, the former passing shortly after their son.

"Anthony?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, Annabella?" He turned back to the short, brunette that kept him on schedule. After nearly a year and a half he finally convinced her to put aside formalities and call him by his first name. She did so, rather grudgingly of course.

"There's a call for you, Lord Grantham."

"Robert? What on earth could he want?" He returned to his desk, reaching for the phone.

"Didn't say, just asked to speak to you." She shrugged, closing the door behind her.

"Robert?"

"Anthony, how are you, old boy?" Came the familiar voice. He hadn't seen Robert in years, but they always managed to pick up as if there had been no lapse. Old friends from university, who served in the war together, along with John Bates. More than once the two men had to save Robert from his rather impetuous attitude, both on the battlefield and in the pub. But all of that changed when they returned and settled down. Robert had Cora and then the three daughters that came along in rather quick succession.

"Well, thank you. And yourself? Still in Yorkshire?"

"For the moment, though we might be forced into the city soon."

"Oh?"

"We haven't heard from Edith for weeks and Cora is rather concerned. I hate to impose on you, but I was wondering, since you're at the same university…"

"Would you like me to check in on her?"

"If you can just find her, let her know that we're worried."

"Of course. I'm happy to help."

"She had been dating a rather nasty bloke, for her connections more than anything. He started to set her mind against us."

"Don't worry, Robert. I'll do what I can."

"We appreciate this, Anthony. Really. Maybe you'll escape a weekend of co-eds? Come round Downton for a visit?"

"Sounds marvelous. I'll see what I can find out today and get back to you."

"Thank you."

Anthony had a rather slow go of finding Edith. Annabella found a copy of her schedule, but all of her classes for the day were already over. Though there was one class she had, he knew one of his students was also in.

"Thomas! Thomas, do you have a moment!" Anthony called, spotting the tall, dark haired man from his Monday morning classes.

"Professor? For you I have two." He smirked, putting out his cigarette.

"I'm trying to locate a young lady-"

"Hardly thought you to be the type, Professor, but I can direct you towards some reasonably willing young ladies." Thomas moved for his little black book but froze at the look on the older man's face. "Not what you meant?"

"No. And we will have a discussion on that later. There's a young lady in your class, Edith Crawley?"

"Lady Eed? Of course, everyone knows her." He chuckled, falling silent again when Anthony scowled. "She won't be around campus today. But if you head down to Carnaby Street after seven you'll be sure to find her lurking around one of the clubs." Thomas shrugged, starting to walk away.

"Anywhere more specific than that?" Anthony called to him as he went.

"Anywhere with a dark corner and live music. Sorry, Professor."

"That's all right, thank you. Oh, what does she look like now?"

"Now?"

"Haven't seen her since she was 11."

Thomas laughed and walked back towards Anthony.

"Taller. A bit ginger, big eyes, lots of liner. Well put together if you like that sort of thing." He smirked.

"What sort of thing?"

"Women. Not my bag." The young man laughed, continuing on his way.

A lady in Carnaby Street? How hard could that be?

"Bloody fool's errand." Anthony muttered to himself as the cab pulled to a stop at Carnaby Street.

"You don' mind if I don' take you all the way down, sir? Gets a bit crowded this time." The cabbie explained, pulling the lever on the meter. It seemed that Anthony would be getting out one way or the other. He nodded, paying the man before entering the foreign territory of mods and hippies. He stood out like a sore thumb. Black suit, proper raincoat, still carrying his briefcase. This wasn't his plan for the end of the day.

It had been years since he had seen Edith, the last time being at a Christmas party at Downton, just before Maude passed away. Probably ten years had passed, in that time he had entered a self-imposed isolation. He'd go to work each day, put in his hours, return home, have a meal prepared by the housekeeper, read the paper, grade papers, watch some telly then off to bed so the routine could be repeated in the morning.

How he was supposed to recognize the girl who was now twenty was beyond him. From the sound of things, she looked rather like Rosamund, so that at least gave him a notion. Although as a group of girls with dyed hair and heavy makeup meandered past him it seemed as though this would be a difficult task. All he remembered was the slightly shy ten year old with a head of copper curls that asked him very specific questions about the parliament all night. If she was hanging around here she must have changed greatly.

The first two clubs on the list produced nothing. He had asked a few bartenders and doormen if they knew of Edith Crawley, a kind young man wearing a velvet jacket and top hat at the last stop directed him towards the Cellar.

The club was located in the basement of one of the fashion houses that lined the street. It seemed like a much more low-key place than the last he had visited. Dark inside, smoky, bursts of red lighting throughout. A band that he didn't recognize was playing, singing on about a village green. The bartender pointed him towards a booth in the back of the room. There was a lone figure at the table, a curtain pulled slightly closed so that it required an effort to see who was there.

Pushing the curtain back Anthony realized immediately that the bartender must have misheard him. An elegant young woman looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. But he was far too taken with her beauty. The only curl in her hair was the slight twist out at the end of her copper locks. Heavy black liner moved across the creases of her eyes, still not managing to hide her lovely brown eyes. She was slender, with some curves of youth remaining, dressed in a simple black dress and knee high leather boots, a long string of beads hung around her neck and gold bangles climbing up her left arm.

"Sorry…" He finally managed, beginning to move away.

"Sir Anthony?" She questioned, appearing from behind the curtain again.

"Edith?"

"What on earth are you doing here?" She smiled, standing up to hug him and usher him into the empty seat across from her. When she stood he got the full effect of her outfit, while simple, the dress was short. Much shorter than her mother would have ever allowed. The booth was warm with the fabric hiding them away, a single candle offering a glow strong enough for the space. He could smell her perfume, spices of some sort and vanilla. There was also a strong scotch in her hand as she gestured to the bartender for another.

"Looking for you actually." He began, trying to relax. His mind was still reeling from the beautiful woman who now sat across from him.

"Mission accomplished." She shrugged, pushing the newly arrived glass into his hands. "Father sent you?"

"Simply asked that I check on you."

"And bring me home?"

"I only agreed to check on you and convey their worry." He sipped from the tumbler in his hands, welcoming the burn the liquid provided.

"It isn't as though I've run away. I have been at my flat… just haven't answered the phone."

"Haven't you missed important calls?"

"Not very likely. Mostly mother trying to convince me to come home after graduation. Mary and Matthew have come back home to live since he has decided to practice law in the countryside. And of course Sybil will be leaving to start university soon, so mother will be in need of a project to keep her attentions."

"And you're the project?"

"Clearly. I'm not a suitable daughter, how can they ever hope to marry me off when I look like this?"

"I think you look beautiful." The words escaped him before he could stop them. Edith froze at them, looking at him carefully.

"Really?" She sounded almost hopeful. He looked over her again, her bare arms and fitted dress, the contrast of dark materials and her pale skin.

"No. Gorgeous may be a better word." She blushed before laughing off the compliment.

"Tell my parents that."

"I don't think my input would be well accepted." He replied, quickly remembering himself. He shouldn't have told her gorgeous, it set the wrong tone. He's probably made her terribly uncomfortable now, while making him come off as a dirty old man.

"Are you hungry?" She asked suddenly, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"Hungry? Food? Nourishment?"

"Yes. Yes, I am rather."

"There's a song I'm waiting to hear, after that would you like to go find something for supper?"

"Wh… you want to eat with me?"

"Of course. It's been ages since I've had someone clever to speak to." She smiled. It was Anthony's turn to blush, he hadn't expected a compliment from her. Before anything else could be said she turned her focus to the music, pulling the curtain slightly to take a look at the band.

Anthony watched her as the next song began. A small smile graced her lips as her eyes closed and she leaned back in her seat to listen.

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling

Flowing into the night

People so busy, makes me feel dizzy

Taxi light shines so bright

But I don't need no friends

As long as I gaze on waterloo sunset

I am in paradise

He could understand her fondness for the music. It wasn't like the other songs he occasionally heard on the radio or playing from his niece's bedroom when visiting his sister. The smile didn't fade as she mouthed along a few of the lyrics. He couldn't take his eyes off the young woman across from him. There was suddenly a need to down the rest of his drink as quickly as possible. This wasn't proper.

Her head slowly tilted back up as she blinked her eyes open, smiling brightly at him.

Not proper. Not proper. Not proper. He chanted over and over in his mind.

"What isn't proper?" She asked, breaking his concentration.

"What? Uh, oh, nothing. Just… nothing. Supper?" She eyed him curiously but stood and followed him out of the bar.

They started down the sidewalk, but as they went Anthony became increasingly tense.

"I'm afraid I don't quite fit in around here."

She paused, looking at him up and down before taking him by the hand and pulling him into an alcove between two buildings.

"Are you cold?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you cold?"

"No."

"Then we'll take this off." She reached up and pushed his jacket from his shoulders. "Oh yes, in that suit alone you look very mod, darling."

"Is that right?" He doubted that he had the capacity to look modern or hip or any other word this crowd used.

"Even if no one else thinks so, I've always found you very dashing." Her tone was sincere and forced him to look down and meet her gaze.

"Have you?" She nodded, a moment passed before he decided to throw caution to the wind. It was a short distance to close between them but he did and quickly, their lips met in a sweet kiss. Edith's arms found their way around his middle, pulling him close. She fit against him rather perfectly.

"Yes, very dashing indeed. Supper?" She carried his jacket over her arm, her other hand taking hold of his. He followed as she pulled him through the sidewalks. This was going to be a strange night.

He's a well respected man about town,

Doing the best things so conservatively.