Mr. Barrow and Mr. Kent

Note: There's more- do not fear the short chapters.

March 1922

"You call that polished?" Thomas picked up Mr. Branson's left shoe, a cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth. "You've missed three spots here, Jimmy."

Jimmy grimaced and grabbed the shoe back. In the servant's hall, he stood up from the table and looked at it under a light as the sun had already set outside and the room was dim.

"I don't see em'," he muttered.

Thomas followed and took the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling a puff. He pointed at a smudge near the toe. "There." Two small marks remained above the heel. "There and there." Thomas smirked and picked a newspaper up off the table, swatting Jimmy lightly on the nose. "Bad dog."

Jimmy jerked back, making a funny face. "Cheeky."

"Cheeky Mr. Barrow to you." Thomas smiled slightly and nodded. He wandered out of the hall, on his way to the kitchen to steal a bite. Jimmy rolled his eyes and followed, still holding the shoe and a rag with polish on it. In the kitchen, he leaned on the stove, working the heel.

Thomas shook his head at him, nipping a biscuit from a warm plate on the counter. "You do it over there, you're going to get an earful from-"

"What on earth you think you're doin' polishin' at the stove? Are ya daft? You do that in the hall!" Mrs. Patmore's screech made both of them wince as she barreled into the kitchen, but only Thomas was laughing. She went on for another minute, during which Jimmy was compared to somebody from The Bible with a long name he'd never heard of.

Mrs. Patmore sent a glare of doom in Thomas's direction and he coughed. She nodded at his absconded biscuit. "Would you be so very kind as to take your little friend and your sticky fingers out of my kitchen?"

"Certainly, Mrs. Patmore," Thomas said cooly.

Back in the servant's hall, Jimmy slumped down next to Thomas and sighed. "Won't be getting pudding tonight."

"You can have some of mine," Thomas said magnanimously, stubbing out his cigarette.

"Really?" Jimmy said, perking up.

"No."

Jimmy pretended not to be amused. "Bad dog." He gave up on the shoes for a moment and set them on a chair. "Don't know what the point is, me practicing little valet jobs. No one's going to need a new valet anytime soon."

"It's always good to be prepared," Thomas insisted. "You never know what's going to happen. Trust me on that. Odds are Lady Edith will marry someday or Lady Mary wed again. A new husband could need a valet."

"They'd already have their own. And some say valets are going out of style."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Now that Mosely's back with Mrs. Crawley, that's one less to worry about. It's always something."

Jimmy just nodded and crossed his arms on the table. It was subtle, but he couldn't help but notice that Thomas scooted away from him and moved his hands far from his on the table. They had become friends after all, following the incident at the fair. And just in time too. The death of Matthew Crawley had shocked them all and it was good to have someone to talk to. Of course, there was Alfred. But Jimmy had found that Alfred didn't understand things the way Thomas did, not after Jimmy started to get to know him better. There had been more than one long evening spent in the servants hall as Thomas smoked and the two of them spoke about Matthew Crawley and Lady Sybil and then the war. Thomas had even told him about the blind lieutenant at the hospital. It had taken Thomas a while to stop trying so hard and Jimmy liked him better when he was just himself, even if he was occasionally a bit of a bastard. Mrs. Hughes had told Jimmy a few weeks ago that she was amazed by how Thomas had softened. When he was nasty now, it was more just good natured ribbing and it always amused Jimmy. Still, he was obviously skittish about physical proximity and Jimmy could hardly blame him. It was the one bit of awkwardness left from all their trouble. Sometimes Jimmy thought he should say something; that it was alright, it had been about a year and half since the kissing incident and six months since Thomas had intervened at the fair. Jimmy trusted him now. Odd as it was, Thomas was by far his closest friend at Downton. But bringing it up would mean bringing up the very thing between them that had created that little bit of awkwardness and he didn't want to upset his friend. Better to let it lie.

Instead, Jimmy said, "I've got the day off tomorrow. Thought I'd knock around Ripon. If you need anything, I mean."

"Ah, cheers," Thomas muttered. "Pomade and cig-"

"Cigarettes," Jimmy finished. "Naturally."

"I'll give you some money in the morning," Thomas said. "And if you go by a bookshop, maybe you could pick up a couple."

"What books?"

"Novels. Doesn't matter what." He played with his cigarette case. "I'll read anything. You could ask the book clerk what's new, I suppose."

"Right then," Jimmy agreed. His mind wondered. He didn't so much mind being a footman, but it did occur to him that it would be nice to rise to valet someday. The problem was too many ladies. Edith, Mary and now Rose... The men were always jilting them or turning out to be married already or dying tragically. He imagined if he ever did become valet at Downton, it would probably be for Mary's boy, Little Matty, when he was grown. "I should've been a girl."

Thomas had been drinking tea and he nearly spit it out. "Pardon?"

"I mean because... Well, because maids seem to... Oh, nevermind."

"Might've simplified things on my side," Thomas cracked.

They glanced at each other and Jimmy was so surprised he burst into chuckles. Thomas laughed until Carson appeared to scold them.

The next day Jimmy went to Ripon. It was a fine day out, excepting the hour he wasted talking to a girl he met an ice cream shop who he found very silly and boring. The truth was, as he walked about, he kept wishing Thomas was with him. When he saw a fat man talking nonsense to a dog in the street, he tried to imagine what joke Thomas would make. He wondered if Thomas would like the grey pinstripe he saw in a suit shop. Jimmy couldn't imagine himself in it, but he'd seen Thomas wear something similar. At a watch shop, he paused in front of window. He hemmed and hawed and finally went in with a sigh. He'd always felt badly about Thomas having his watch stolen by the toughs at the fair. It would be a nice thing to replace it. Ever since, he'd been using one of Mr. Carson's old watches. The man in the store showed him a lovely one similar to Thomas's old watch and it wasn't too dear. That was the unfortunate moment when his eye caught sight of something much lovelier on display and it occurred to Jimmy that an under butler should really have something a bit grander. It was pewter; not gold or silver. But Thomas would like it. When the clerk told him the price, Jimmy immediately dismissed the idea, frowning.

"Best go with the other one," Jimmy said. Then an image popped into his head of what Thomas's reaction to the finer watch would be. He'd love it. He'd surely love it. He might even smile genuinely which was something he rarely did. Teeth might even make an appearance. It was quite nice when Thomas really smiled. The clerk was doing up the box when Jimmy found himself saying, "Eh, I'm very sorry. I'll take the pewter one after all. Just have to skip on films... For the next year or so."

A few doors down from the watch shop, Jimmy stopped in the middle of the walk and stood stock still, holding the little box tied with ribbon in his hand.

"That was stupid, Jimmy."

The bookshop was another half an hour of deciding, even after the clerk there helped him. He'd been intending to eat dinner in a pub, but now he'd spent a small fortune on the watch. He picked up the pomade and cigarettes and started on his way back to Downton.