A/N: Whilst I was in Greece I was reading fics on my phone and saw mentions of Scarborough. Thanks to chelsiesouloftheabbey filling me on the info, I wrote a return home from honeymoon fic, BEFORE I saw episode 4. Is it too big headed of me to say I like this version better?! (Probs yes, but whatever!)
The week in Scarborough had flown by all too quickly and was full of small moments which Mrs Carson tucked into her heart to dwell on in the years to come. They were still learning about each other, even after twenty years of sharing their lives. They could still surprise each other. She hoped that would never cease.
She knew now that he would start sleeping with his back to her, but she would always awaken to find his arm draped across her middle, her legs somehow tucked between his.
He relished the fact he usually woke just a few minutes before her, which mean he could watch her even breathing and catch the moment sleep withdrew and she started to stir. He had developed a ritual of kissing her cheek as she slowly woke, and she adored coming to consciousness and finding his eyes watching hers. There was always a kiss to share before a fond 'good morning'.
They both wondered how they could have been satisfied with the formal greetings of so many previous mornings.
She had discovered he loved to watch her put her hair up, which caused her to go wrong initially and laughingly tell him he shouldn't stare so. He has responded only by kissing her neck, which delayed things considerably.
As much as he loved watching her put it up, he was far fonder of taking it down himself. The secret of her long, wavy, silver streaked hair, which only he knew was fascinating to him. He had called it the eighth wonder of the world on their second night together. The compliment had rendered her speechless, not that she'd had much breath in which to form words, given the way she responded to his hands ghosting over her body as he had gazed at her.
He had found there was nothing more delightful than strolling hand in hand, or allowing a brief touch as they sat in the hotel dining room for breakfast. She touched his cheek whenever she felt like it, just because she could, and removed imaginary fluff from his impeccable suits, just so her hand could brush his shoulder. The freedom was exhilarating.
They held hands now as they sat in the carriage of the train which rushed clackety clack, clackety clack over the rails, propelling them through the countryside back to Downton. She was looking out of the window and sighed a little, which drew him from the quiet contemplation of their entwined fingers.
'Is it very selfish of me to wish we didn't have to go back to the Abbey?'
Her head turned as he began to speak, as it always would, but her eyes grew wide in surprise as he voiced the very thoughts which had caused her sigh.
'Do you really think that, or are you just trying to make me feel better for my own selfish wishes?'
He brought her hand up in his and raised it to his lips before he wrapped his other hand about it, so both of his held her hand like a thing to be kept sacred.
'Elsie, my love. It cannot have escaped your notice that the longest I can stand not to touch you or kiss you in some small way is about half an hour. It's going to be intensely strange to have to go back to serving at the pleasure of others and ruling our unruly group of staff by example!'
She leaned forward to place a devoted kiss to his lips, but drew back before either of them wished to linger and smiled, pressing her free hand to his cheek.
'We might have to work out some sort of code, and I'm sure it will delight quite a few people if we slip up on occasion!'
They shared a knowing glance as their minds ran through the various reactions their kiss outside the church had brought. Mrs Carson's gaze was drawn to their entwined hands and sighed again.
'I don't mind admitting that a for a few hours I worried our union might break our professional relationship. Her Ladyship was so angry. I wondered if it might be better if I resigned.'
She had told him the whole story of the coat and he was not unduly surprised by her feelings. He removed one hand from the clasp that held them and wound an arm about her shoulders, drawing her to him.
'But it worked out, my love. Even if it hadn't, I would not have let it separate us. I've not paid much attention to the cottage these last few months, but it won't take much once we start.'
She heard the implied meaning and was astonished. 'You would have left if I had decided I could no longer continue in her ladyship's employ?'
'Elsie, love, have you forgotten our vows so soon? We're one – where you go, I go. I may still value Lady Mary and prize the grandeur of the position as I used to do, but you are my family, and I promise the day you want to leave is the day I pack our belongings.'
She kissed him ardently at these words, and it was only broken by the slowing of the train as it pulled into Downton station. As he handed her down the steps, they were agreeably surprised to find the Abbey's chauffeur waiting for them. Neither of them noticed the station master slip into his office to make a brief, but very important, phone call.
All too soon they were sweeping up the gravel drive towards the house. As they pulled up, Mr Carson drew her towards him and kissed her cheek and winked at her, before they got out of the car and strode purposefully towards the back entrance, hand in hand.
Entering through the back door, they were slightly surprised to find the passageways completely devoid of life, but Mrs Carson took the opportunity kiss her husband once more, hand running along his lapel. A cough broke them apart and they turned to find Mrs Patmore at the entrance to the servant's hall. 'If you've finished, I wonder if I could persuade Mr and Mrs Carson to join me for a moment?'
They thought nothing of her slightly strange wording, because a thrill ran through each of them at the address. Entering the room, they found themselves confronted with the entire downstairs AND upstairs family.
Lady Grantham stood in the middle of the room, smiling at both, but sending a special message of welcome and relief at her presence towards her housekeeper. She raised her glass, a gesture mirrored by everyone else in the room, even, Elsie noted, slightly dazed, the Dowager and Mrs Crawley.
'Welcome home, Mr and Mrs Carson!' the warmth of the greeting evident in the Countess's voice.
The toast was echoed by all in the room and both the Carsons felt at that moment that although they had indeed returned to reality, it was one tempered by the love they shared, which was acknowledged and accepted by all around them.
Charles did not relinquish the hold on his wife's hand, and Elsie felt the squeeze of his fingers and smiled. Reality was a very pleasant place to live.
A/N: A review or two would set me up forever!