Ok, this is a speculative AU set at a dance like the Servants' Ball, at some point in s6. It has Baxley and the implication of a bit of Vi&Is. Really hope you like it.

It was enough of a shock when the older Lady Grantham settled herself, complete with walking stick, beside in the chair him at the outskirts of the room, never mind when she said what she did to him. He had been in the midst of contemplating just how rude it would be to tell her that he'd actually been saving that seat for Phyllis, when she spoke to him herself.

"I couldn't help but notice, Molesley, that your dancing has considerably improved since your last outing."

He flushed to remember it, that night in Scotland, and to know that she remembered it too.

"Thank you, your Ladyship," he replied simply, and then, wondering if he could redeem himself a little with an amusing remark, "I think having a partner helped this time."

"I think it would be foolish of either of us to deny, Molesley, that you were amply partnered with a bottle of scotch the last time."

Well, that was… to the point. And a little harsh. But then Lady Grantham was hardly known for her forgiving tongue.

Both of them, without him realising, were watching across the room to where Phyllis was talking to Mrs Carson and being offered a drink by Mr. Bates.

"My daughter in law speaks very highly of Miss Baxter to me," Lady Grantham told him.

When he turned back to look at her he found she had been watching his face very closely, a look of amusement in her eyes.

"Yes," he agreed instinctively, "She's wonderful…as a lady's maid," he added quickly, "She is very good at her job."

"I'm sure she is," she replied.

"Really," he added, when she said nothing else, "She's very hard working and-…"

"Molesley," Lady Grantham told him sharply, "I have as much interest in Miss Baxter's proficiency as a lady's maid as I do in Mr. Bates' ability to play the bagpipes. It's all very well, but it doesn't concern me in the slightest. What does interest me, however, are your intentions towards Miss Baxter."

He looked at her, dumbfounded.

"My intentions?"

"Yes, Molesley, your intentions."

He flushed heartily.

"I'm sure my intentions are far less interesting than you expect, your Ladyship," he told her.

"You do have intentions, then? Towards her?"

She had caught him out there. She was watching him expectantly.

"I'm sure they're far less exciting than you'd like to hear about, my Lady," he told her quietly.

"Molesley," she told him candidly, and a little more softly than before, "I don't ask you in order to gain amusement or bring about scandal. To be quite frank with you between Mrs. Crawley and my granddaughters, I have no reason to resort to the servants affair for either of those. I ask you, Molesley, because I have known you, through dealings with your father and your own work since you were a child. And I confess, I have always wondered if you had quite-…. found your place. That is to say, if you were quite happy. And I see you there, dancing with Miss Baxter, and I think, maybe, at last, you have. And I wonder what your intentions are, or if you even know yourself, very much for your own sake, and not for mine."

He was quite shocked. For a moment he sat there, at the edge of the busy room, full of dancing people, feeling profoundly touched that old Lady Grantham should be concerned with him in this way. And then, he reminded himself, she would be expecting an answer.

"My intentions-…." he began slowly, "Are to let things be exactly as Miss Baxter wants them to."

Lady Violet tilted her head a little to the side.

"And has she let you know what she wants?" she enquired.

A smile passed his lips as a memory occurred to him.

"I think-…" he told her slowly, "She wants to be safe."

"Well, then, Molesley, you must make her so."

/

For a moment, Phyllis was left alone at the side of the room as both Mrs Hughes and Mr Bates were approached by their respective spouses. A few seconds later, she was joined, however, by Mrs. Crawley of all people, who had come in search of drinks.

"Good evening, Miss Baxter," she spoke to her quite civilly, taking up one of the glasses from the tray on the table beside her.

"Good evening, Mrs Crawley," she replied.

"Are you enjoying the evening?" Mrs Crawley asked her.

"Yes," she replied, "Very much."

"I saw you dancing with Mr Molesley, earlier," Mrs Crawley informed her.

"Yes, I was," she replied, "But I'm not sure where he's got to now."

"I think I saw him over there," Mrs Crawley indicated, "Talking to Cousin Violet."

"What?" she asked, so surprised that she momentarily forget who she was speaking to, "Really?"

Yes, she could see him for herself. Lord, how had that happened?

"I'm sure he'll be alright," Mrs Crawley told her, "If not, we can always dash off and rescue him."

"Yes," Phyllis agreed, "I think that would be a good idea."

Mrs Crawley smiled at her.

"Mr Molesley is a very good man," Mrs Crawley remarked, "He used to be my butler, you know."

"Yes, I did," Phyllis replied, "He told me. He said he enjoyed working for you very much."

"Well, that's kind of him," Mrs Crawley told her, smiling softly, "And I am truly sorry that I didn't give him employment after Matthew died."

"I think he understood," Phyllis told her gently, "He knew you had troubles enough."

"I did," Mrs Crawley agreed, "But I'm deeply ashamed that I allowed my troubles to add to his. The one consolation, is that now it seems to have worked out very much for the best."

"You're right," Phyllis replied, "He's very happy in his job at the moment."

She saw Mrs Crawley smiling, just a little knowingly, and she had to ask:

"What is it, ma'am?"

"Do you think it's the job which contents him?" Mrs Crawley asked her, "Or is it the company?"

Mrs Crawley was smiling broadly now.

"Mrs Crawley, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you do, Miss Baxter."

She was brought up short a little by the other woman's bluntness.

"He hasn't said," she told her after a moment, "If it's-… anyone in particular who makes him happy."

"Oh, I doubt it will be too long," Mrs Crawley replied, "In fact he seems to looking for you now."

Phyllis craned her neck a little, looking over to the other side of the room where Joseph sat. Lady Grantham seemed to have gone. He did seem to be scanning the room for someone.

"Would you mind very much, ma'am, if I went to him now?" she asked.

Mrs Crawley beamed.

"Miss Baxter, nothing could make me happier."

Just as she was about to go, she felt a gentle hand on her arm stopping her. She turned back to look at Mrs Crawley.

"What will you say to him?" she asked, her curiosity seeming to have got the better of her, "When he asks you what I think he'll ask?"

Phyllis blinked for a moment.

"I'll say yes," she told her quietly.

/

The two of them sat together at the side of the room. The door was in both of their lines of vision, and they saw very clearly as Molesley and Miss Baxter left together, his hand in the small of her back.

"Really," Violet remarked, "I wish it had been a little bit more of a challenge. They were like lambs."

Isobel smiled as they disappeared out of sight, unnoticed by anyone else.

"I think it's lovely," she told her, "And we had to start with something easy," she joked, "Perhaps next week we can move on to Mrs. Patmore and Sergent Willis."

"Why would we do that?" Violet asked indignantly.

Isobel smiled.

"Never mind," she told her.

"I have to say," Violet said after a few moments, "It's good to see Molesley so happy. I don't think I've seen a man so deliriously happy in years."

"Well, you know what they say," Isobel told her, "The love of a good woman, and all of that."

Violet looked across at the side of her face.

"Yes," she said softly, "I do."

end.

please review if you have the time.