So! First Downton Abbey Fic... In the interest of full disclosure I haven't written much of this yet so I can't promise to be very prompt with updates. I'm also not an expert on Banking or Financial matters, so I have been leaning rather heavily on Wikipedia for correct terminology and such. This first chapter is set somewhere in 2009, when the Financial Crisis was in full swing.

There will be swearing, but I can't think of any other warnings that should be added.

Please let me know what you think. Much appreciated.

The London branch of Grantham Investment Bank was tucked away rather unobtrusively in Eaton Square. Being an exclusive bank with a very select, limited clientele, it didn't boast a sign or any advertisement of its identity. Save for a brass plaque next to the front door, declaring that The Bank had been established in 1962 by Violet Crawley, Countess of Grantham. Consultation by appointment only. No phone number was offered.

Matthew Crawley stopped across the street and peered up at the building. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and he did not know if it was caused by the flood of memories that the sight of the building evoked in him, or the fact that he had no choice but to cross the street and ring the bell. The financial crisis had not been kind to him, he was one of the first to be laid off from the first bank he'd joined on returning to the workforce. The second he'd joined in time to watch the place crumble around him. At that point, no one anywhere was hiring.

He'd been on the verge of calling his mother in Manchester and asking her if she would mind him kipping on her couch when the call from GIB came. He knew perfectly well why they were calling him, it had been on the front page of half the papers in the country. He'd have very much liked to tell them to shove it, but his situation was desperate and according to an online news article, she was living in Singapore. Not that he made a habit of tracking her movements, rather he'd done his level best to ignore her very existence.

And yet, here he was. Going to a job interview at her family's bank. It was almost enough to make a man think about moving to New York.

'Suck it up, Crawley.' He muttered to himself, crossing the street at a brisk march. He punched the doorbell before he could think any harder about what he was doing. As always, the door was opened punctually, if only by a few inches. The doorman, a ridiculously tall man with red hair peered at him with the same look GIB staff gave to anyone who didn't work there or possess an eight figure bank account.

'May I help you?'

'I'm here to see Robert.' Matthew replied, the doorman frowned at the use of a first name.

'The Earl of Grantham only sees people by appointment.'

'Oh but I have one, my name is Matthew Crawley. No relation. You must be new.' Matthew replied at the bemused look on the man's face. But the surname did its job, he opened the door properly and Matthew stepped inside, shedding his coat.

'If you'll follow me, Mr Crawley.' The doorman murmured after hanging up Matthew's coat. Matthew allowed the man to lead him into the parlour room, where a single desk resided. There was no one behind the desk, which caused the doorman to pull up and frown. Matthew coughed and pointed the doorman in the other direction, where a blonde man in a suit matching the doorman's was flirting with a mousy haired girl. The doorman scowled.

'Jimmy!' he called. Jimmy turned and spotted Matthew and the doorman, his face lit up with recognition.

'Mr Crawley, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.' The man declared, hurrying forward to shake his hand.

'Delighted, I'm sure.' Matthew replied, feeling slightly put off by the warm welcome from a complete stranger.

'Alfred, would you please inform Mr Carson that Mr Crawley is here?' Jimmy ordered the tall doorman, who frowned.

'Pretty sure that's your job, Kent.' Alfred replied before he left the room. Jimmy returned his attention to Matthew.

'I apologise for Mr Nugent, he's a sour one. Can I get you anything? Some tea, perhaps?' Jimmy asked.

'No, I'm fine.'

'Very well then.' Jimmy looked slightly put out. 'I understand you were with Northern Rock and also Lloyds Banking Group. Terrible business, that.'

Matthew grimaced at the reminder. 'Literally and figuratively.'

'Mr Kent!' the booming voice of Charles Carson caused Jimmy to jump, Matthew simply gripped the handle of his briefcase tighter. He'd long since gotten a handle on his aversion to loud noises, but they still occasionally caused him to break out into a cold sweat. 'The reason your post as receptionist is called a desk job, is that your duties are to be performed behind your desk.'

'Yes Mr Carson.' Jimmy muttered, hurrying back to his post.

'Should I see you out from behind the desk again Mr Kent, I will reconsider my decision to promote you above Mr Nugent.' Carson continued, fixing the hapless receptionist with a scowl. Matthew had never been entirely clear on what Carson's job or title was at the Bank, however it was widely acknowledged that the Bank couldn't function without the man. 'Welcome back to Grantham Investment Bank, Mr Crawley.' Mr Carson intoned as they shook hands. 'And my I congratulate you on your appointment to the Order of the British Empire.'

'Thank you Carson. I do hope I'm not too early, traffic was better than I had anticipated.' Matthew replied.

'Not at all. If you would follow me.' Carson replied, Matthew wasn't put off by Carson's mood, the man had always been Mary's fondest supporter.

'I'm sure I remember the way.' Matthew joked half-heartedly.

'Quite.' Carson replied.

'Because it is you, Matthew, I won't embellish things.' Robert began, marking the start of their business discussion. Contrary to Carson's welcome, Robert had been effervescent in his greeting to Matthew, spending a good half an hour grilling Matthew on what he'd been up to in the last six years. He apologised for not attending the presentation of Matthew's MBE. Robert wanted a full explanation about his injury and seemed to relax visibly after Matthew ensured him that he was completely healed. Matthew found it a little perplexing, given the bitterness with which he'd left GIB all those years ago.

Robert gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Matthew noted not for the first time that the CEO of Grantham Investment Bank looked particularly worn. But then most people who were involved in the financial industry looked quite stressed these days. Matthew knew he was showing signs of a lack of sleep. 'I understand Patrick released a statement absolving the rest of the Bank of being complicit in his fraud.' Matthew began, knowing full well that Robert could waste many hours avoiding the subject if left to his own devices.

'It's our only saving grace really.' Robert replied. 'I don't know why he did it. He's safely tucked away in the Caymans with millions of my client's money, if he actually cared about the Bank…' Robert cut himself off with a shake off the head. He put down his cup of tea and moved towards the wet bar, pouring himself a generous glass of scotch. He held up the decanter and turned towards Matthew, who shook his head.

'Frankly, I'm surprised you're still standing. Between the fraud and the general economic climate.' Matthew remarked.

'It was touch and go for a while, we certainly lost some investors. But we've found two new clients who have made significant investments, and so things are looking up.' Robert replied, he gave a shrug, dismissing his bank's woes with that simple gesture. 'That of course leaves us with the problem of filling Patrick's position.'

'I should think that would be rather simple, that it would go to Mary.' Matthew replied, proud of himself for managing to get her name out so casually. Robert took a moment to eye him at the mention of his eldest daughter, before he shook his head.

'Mary has other priorities. I doubt she would welcome the added responsibility.' Robert replied succinctly. Matthew sipped at his tea. He disagreed with Robert, the Mary he had known wanted nothing more than to run GIB, Matthew also knew that she would excel at the role. 'Besides, moving her back to London to run things here would just leave me with the bigger headache of finding someone to run the Singapore branch.' He replied with a laugh, as if there weren't hundreds of bankers desperate for jobs in London alone, let alone the world at large.

'I see.'

The silence stretched out between them. Robert eventually put down his scotch. 'My dear boy, surely you know why I've asked you here. I'd like you to take on Patrick's former role.'

Matthew felt his mouth drop open. 'Robert! I- I'm a corporate lawyer. I can clean up his mess, but I can't do the job myself.'

'Why on earth not? You know how things work, you know how we operate here. Yes, there will be things you will need to learn from a banker's perspective instead of a lawyer's. You must understand that I am not hiring you to help us navigate this financial crisis, but as part of a long term succession plan. I don't intend on running the Bank forever. You will have time to learn.'

Matthew just stared at him. He felt an instinctual urge to ask where Mary fit into this succession plan of Robert's, but he didn't want to give Robert the impression that he still cared for Mary's welfare.

'What do you say Matthew?' Robert urged.

Mary settled into the back seat of the car and turned her attention to London as it passed her by. The skyline was different and there was construction all over the place, but in all important aspects it was the same as ever. Cold and dreary, grey and dark and cramped and so very busy. Mary had often daydreamed of a cold London day during her time in Singapore, she was proudly British, and therefore found the humidity in the Asian summer to be absolutely unbearable. There would be entire days when she did nothing but move from one air conditioned building to an air conditioned car, and into another air conditioned building, without the slightest desire to interact with the world at large.

Anna kept telling her that she was missing out on what should have been the experience of a lifetime. Mary reminded her best friend and personal assistant that she was far too busy to indulge in the sauna that was Singapore in the summer. Mary felt a stab of gratitude at the thought of Anna. Where she would be without that dear woman she did not know, certainly she couldn't have managed in Singapore for six years without her. Mary resolved to give Anna another raise. And perhaps buy her a house. She would need one, now they were back in London for good.

The driver was efficient, and knew London traffic well. It wasn't long after they'd left the hotel that the man pulled to a stop in Eaton Square. She only took a moment to glance up at the building, enough to note that it hadn't changed. Not that her father would ever dare change a thing whilst Granny still lived. Mary doubted he'd change much after she left either, her father was ridiculously conservative and a traditionalist to the bone. One of many reasons she'd stayed in Singapore for such a long time.

The driver opened her door, and she stepped out under the cover of an umbrella he was holding. She thanked him as he left her at the front door, informing him that she would call when her business was done at the Bank. The doorman answered swiftly when she rang, peering around the door. Upon seeing her Alfred swung the door open wide and jumped to attention.

'May I take your coat milady?' Mary didn't spare more than a moment to note the face of the new doorman, handing off her coat without a word. She brushed past the man and continued down the hall, moving with purpose. She stopped at the end and knocked.

'You may enter.' Carson's deep voice called to her, and Mary couldn't help smiling a little as she walked into his office. Carson looked up from the papers on his desk and did a double take. 'Lady Mary! My, you are a sight for sore eyes.' He hurried around his desk, offering her his hand. Mary cocked an eyebrow.

'Really, Carson. Aren't we past that?' she pulled the big man into a quick hug. 'I just arrived, and I wanted to pop in and say hello to you first.' Mary glanced at his desk. 'I see we're still pretending computers don't exist.' She teased.

'My Lady, I shall quote the Countess of Grantham, "the devil's tools are often disguised quite prettily".'

Mary laughed. 'We really ought to catch up properly, but I can't say when I'll have the time. However I'm back in London for good, so the moment shall arise. I really do need to speak with my father though.'

Carson's face fell. 'Your father is in a meeting, he didn't want to be disturbed.'

'Oh?' Mary paused, there was something distinctly awkward about Carson's demeanour. 'Pray tell, what meeting would this be?'

Carson warred with himself, his loyalty torn between his CEO and the woman before him, who he'd developed an immense fatherly affection for over the years. 'A job interview, I can't say much more than that.' Carson admitted grudgingly.

Mary felt her blood boil, there was only one open position her father would interview people for. Mary would be damned if she was going to sit idly by whilst her father gave it away to anyone who was not her. She turned on her heel and marched out of Carson's office. Carson sighed and followed up the stairs to the executive suites at a more sedate pace. Robert's personal assistant rose from his desk at the sight of Mary making for her father's office with purpose.

'Sit down Bates,' Carson ordered, 'I would suggest you not try and stand in her way.'

Bates complied, stepping aside as Mary pushed open the doors to the office, in time to see her father shaking hands with Matthew Crawley.