For the second time in her life, Mary Crawley found an uninvited man in her bed.

The circumstances were quite dissimilar, although she was shocked all the same when she opened the door to find Matthew Crawley passed out, sprawling on her bed. For a moment the sight of his body lying motionless there brought back the horrific memories of that traumatizing night, but then she noticed the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, and her fear soon morphed into exasperation.

What on earth was he doing here, anyways?

It was nearly midnight, after all. Matthew had come up from the village for dinner that night all alone, as Cousin Isobel was away visiting friends in Manchester, and Mary's parents insisted he simply had to eat with them that night. God forbid he spend the night alone! God forbid Cousin Matthew be forced to suffer! Mary supposed he had disappeared sometime after dinner, but she hadn't really minded his whereabouts; after all, it was just Cousin Matthew. She had supposed he had slipped off for an early night home to go work on whatever dull, trite paperwork lawyers must busy themselves with, or even maybe gone for a drink in the village.

She had never imagined he had left for her bedroom!

Mary closed the door and stared at him, trying to decide what to do. She had already changed into her dressing gown and dismissed Anna for the night. Looking around her room, she quickly grabbed a shawl and pulled it on, trying to make her state of dress a bit more proper.

The question was, what to do with Matthew. Even once she had roused him (which she had every intention to do; there was no way he was forcing her out of her bed just yet!) she wasn't entirely sure he could leave the room. The haunting words of Mr. Pamuk echoed back to her- she'd be ruined if she was caught with a man leaving her room, especially with the rumours already flying around London. Besides, as far as she knew, everyone already believed Matthew Crawley had returned to the village, so the sight of him anywhere in the house was bound to raise questions. Oh well, perhaps Matthew would have an idea. He claimed to have gone to Cambridge, after all.

Mary approached the bed and then hesitated. He looked so peaceful, lying there, and for once Mary had the luxury of examining his face without being the scrutinized by others. He was rather, handsome, she reluctantly admitted, eyeing the way his downy, golden hair fell in messy locks over his face. Although she couldn't see his stunningly blue eyes, the knowledge of their existence added to his appeal. His soft lips were curved into half a smile, and she wondered for a moment what he was thinking about. Then Mary caught herself, and shook her head, chiding herself. There was no way Matthew Crawley was attractive! Quickly she set about attempting to wake him to break the spell.

"Matthew!" she hissed close to his ear. No response.

"Matthew!" she tried again. Tentatively she reached out and shook his shoulder slightly. "Matthew!"

"Mmm," he hummed slightly, but showed no more signs of being awake.

Mary decided to try a different tactic, moving her hand to his cheek. "Matthew Crawley, wake up!' she rubbed his cheek, and then somehow, almost of its own accord, her hand slipped into his golden hair. God, it was soft. She ran her hand through it for a minute, and suddenly Matthew's whole body shifted as he let out a contented sigh. Mary jumped slightly, before again intoning, "Matthew!"

"Mmm, Mary, my darling," he moaned, his voice a low purr as he smiled more and shifted closer towards her. Mary shivered from the unexpected sound and blushed at the surprising term of endearment.

"I'm not your darling! Matthew Crawley, wake up right now!"

"Mkayyyy, Mary, my love."

Feeling her blush rise higher, Mary cried in indignation as loudly as she dared, "Matthew Crawley, arise this instant!" And she smacked him.

"Ow!" cried Matthew, his eyes immediately snapping open as he began to massage his face. He blinked blearily three or four times, before suddenly springing upright and awake. "What on earth?"

"What on earth, indeed, Matthew Crawley?" Mary inquired, placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh God, Mary, I'm so sorry! Things have been very stressful at work, and I haven't been getting much sleep, and I suppose I just lay down for a second…"

"In my room?" Mary countered.

"I didn't know it was your room, it was just the first room with a bed that I happened to find!" Matthew replied sheepishly and a tad defensively, although he refused to meet her eyes even as the pink rose in his cheeks.

"Really, Cousin Matthew, of all the ungentlemanly things you've done since I've met you…"

"We don't need to make a big deal about it! I'll just be going now!" Matthew snapped, straightening his rumpled jacket and attempting to smooth down his gloriously disheveled hair.

Mary forcefully ripped her eyes away from it before retorting. "Well you see, Mr. Crawley, you can't just waltz out of here, since it's way past midnight and I'll be dead if anyone catches a man leaving my bedroom! So now we're in quite the predicament!"

Matthew stared at her for a second before replying in an unfamiliar voice, "I suppose I'll just have to stay here until morning, and then pretend I dropped in early to talk to your father about estate matters."

"Staying here does, unfortunately, seem to be the best option. I suppose the only person who might wander in would be Anna, and I can easily explain to her, as long as I don't get any other unexpected visitors," Mary mused, glaring pointedly at him.

"Really, Mary, I'm terribly sorry," Matthew apologized again, although his remorse was seeming less and less sincere each time.

"Yes, well, I shall try to pretend that matters. Anyways, we should probably get ready for bed."

At the sight of Matthew's eyebrow raising and slight smirk, Mary felt herself begin to blush. "I mean, prepare to retire for the night! Honestly, Mr. Crawley, I can't believe you'd even begin to suppose otherwise. And you will be sleeping on the divan. There's a quilt over there that you can use. And not one more word!"

"I said nothing," Matthew retorted, the clear amusement in his voice irking Mary.

"Good. Keep it that way!" Mary replied, turning away quickly. Clever, charming Matthew was not something she felt like dealing with right now. She quickly pulled off her shawl and hopped under the covers. When she turned around to again look at Matthew, he had just shrugged off his waistcoat and was beginning to unbutton his dress shirt.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she called out, watching with alarm as he exposed more and more of the oddly tantalizing skin of his throat.

"Getting ready for bed," he replied nonchalantly, entirely engaged in his task. His shirt now hung open, and Mary felt a shiver run through her body as she glimpsed his broad chest, even as his attention shifted to trying to undo his cuff links.

"This is absolutely improper!" she squealed, although she couldn't decide what was more embarrassing: the fact that Cousin Matthew was disrobing in her room, or the fact that she was uncontrollably enjoying it.

"Firstly, nothing about this situation is 'proper' as far as 'your people' are concerned, although I can assure you nothing untoward is going to occur. Second off all, there's no way you can expect me to sleep in that blasted suit all night long. It's already dreadfully uncomfortable, and poor Molesley would have a field day when I returned with it."

"Fine, but your… your pants stay on." Mary felt her face heat up at the words even as Matthew's blue eyes bored into hers, amused. "And since when was he 'poor Molesley'?" she snapped, trying quickly to break the odd spell and end the strange moment.

"What? He's a man as well. Who am I to deny him his employment?" Matthew responded, settling himself awkwardly on the divan that was to be his bed for the night. Even from her own bed, Mary could see how stiff and far too small it was for him. She tried to remain indifferent as he shifted uncomfortably; what other options did he have?

"Perhaps you are adjusting to our way of life, after all," Mary commented.

"Perhaps I am," came Matthew's reply from the sorry lump of blankets on the divan.

The pair lapsed into silence in the darkness, and Mary shivered again, this time from the actual cold (as opposed to the appeal of Matthew). After she had endured this shaking for a minute, she cursed, "Damn!"

"My, what a word, from the ever so proper Lady Mary!" Matthew called in feigned horror.

"Don't mock me, not when it's your fault!"

"Now what's my fault? Honestly, I'm starting to think I have a doppelganger for all of the trouble I supposedly cause." Although she could not see him properly, Mary was sure he was rolling his eyes.

"Now there's a terrifying thought. Anyways, it's your fault that I forgot to call for a bedwarmer tonight, and now I'll freeze to death."

"Don't worry, I'll get you a bedwarmer."
"Absolutely not! Did we not just discuss how it's impossible for you to leave my room, especially to go inquiring for services for my bed?" an agitated Mary reprimanded him.

"Really, it's no problem at all. I have one right here."

"That's ludicrous," Mary responded flatly, although now she was intrigued. He had to be bluffing. There was no possible way he had any sort of bedwarming device on his person. Especially considering the fact he was naked from the waist up. There was certainly nothing up there, except his broad chest, rippling muscles, and strong arms...

"I'll show you," Matthew responded mischievously, drawing closer, before suddenly pulling back the covers and slipping under them.

"Matthew Crawley what on earth are you doing? Get the hell out of my bed right now!" Mary screamed as loudly as she dared, quickly sliding to the opposite of her bed.

"Shhh! Be quiet! Honestly, what kind of vagabond do you take me for? Just because I'm middle class doesn't mean I have no morals! I have no intentions but this will be warmer for both of us, and frankly, much more comfortable than a divan!" Matthew responded.

Mary eyed him skeptically for another moment, ready to bolt at any movement, but as he stared imploringly at her with his irresistibly blue eyes, she felt some of the tension leave her body. Additionally, she was already feeling warmer from his close proximity. Much warmer, in fact…

"Fine, but you stay right there, you hear me? No moving closer, and certainly no touching me!" she responded strictly.

"Of course. Cross my heart and hope to die, otherwise!" he responded solemnly, although she thought she detected a hint of playfulness in the words.

"Fine. Good night, Cousin Matthew," she responded, scootching a tad closer towards her original location before rolling so her back was to him.

"Good night… Mary," he answered softly as he turned the light off.

Mary stared into the darkness, trying to contemplate how on earth one was supposed to fall asleep when hot, shirtless Matthew Crawley was lying inches away from her in her bed. Especially after the words he had let slip earlier...

Chapter 2 will probably go up to M, just saying ;) I'll try to get it up later this week, after I finish (avoid) writing college applications some more...