Hey whoa, any of my old readers who may have gotten an Author Alert and came to read this - You're probably wondering who the hell I am. Well who I am, after a two year quiet period on my warhorse All that Matters, an aimless University graduate who is well aware I have an ongoing and unfinished story that I started something like...eight years ago. Have heart, dear readers, I fully intend to finish - ONE FINAL CHAPTER - All that Matters and close the Harry Potter chapter of my life...in a sad, nostalgic way because it will obviously never be over...but until then I am writing rambling Downton Abbey oneshots. Long ago I lost my will to write, my creativity, it was all drowned in University and papers about the environment and religion (my concentrations). I am back and hope to have the end of All that Matters this summer. Until then, and if you're new, please enjoy my Downton Abbey oneshot and feel free to leave me feedback because that is something I'm unfamiliar with and could very much help me get back into the swing of things, find my writer's bone again. The title says it all, a moment before war...Stolen Matthew/Mary moment. It's innocent, drabble. But had to be done.

- Kaitsy

Moments Before War

When Matthew Crawley went to war Mary wore a black dress and stood in the gravel drive behind her father and mother, biting the inside of her mouth because she was bursting to wish him well, send her love, cry out to him, or maybe even just sob. Her hands were gloved and she clasped them together tightly, for fear she might grab onto him as he walked by, dressed so smartly, wearing his cap, leaving just after dinner for the train station. Mary stood in her black dress behind her parents because Mary was calm and steady and crying in front of everyone stood gathered in the driveway was not something Lady Mary of Downton Abbey did – Mary wore unfeeling on her sleeve instead of her heart because it is much harder to get hurt if you keep it hidden away.

It was nightfall and Mary was impressed by how well Isobel stood on, how easily she hugged her son, accepted his kiss to her cheek, his "take care, Mother", and told him he was strong and brave but not to be reckless. She told him she would see him soon. Isobel was, if nothing else, wonderfully reasonable, perfectly realistic whereas Mary's mind was racing with every unsaid thing and could only imagine his handsome face bloody and disfigured and dead. Isobel was a safe harbour, Mary realized, as Matthew took another reassuring hug. She was his safe harbour and perhaps she could learn something from her.

Mary breathed in.

Matthew turned to Lord and Lady Grantham and said individual goodbye's, well wishes, and hopes they would look after Isobel and Moseley and Crawley house in general. Matthew told them he had grown fond of it here. Mary found it interesting if only because perhaps if it hadn't been for war he would not have come good on his promise to leave Downton after their failed relationship. Every single possible what if flew through her mind, all in the minutes standing waiting for him to leave.

He grasped Sybil and Edith's hands and they both wished him luck and then they all turned inside, including Isobel, including Carson after a moments beat and a wary look, Lady Mary's heartache foremost on his mind, not Matthew's departure. Mary realized they were leaving them alone, or perhaps they expected her to follow but Matthew stood waiting to speak to Mary so she could not follow, she got her goodbye, too. Edith lingered momentarily, perhaps to just be invasive, but even she could not deny her sister this, bidding adieu to her doomed love before war.

"Lady Mary," Matthew said and his smile that was normally so easy, if not a little bashful, a little reserved, was a little shaky. "Take care of yourself and your family, I know you will."

"Please know that..." Mary lost her voice and Matthew made a move to reach out to her but relented. "I hope the best for you. We may not have ended on a high note but – This is not the way I imagined you leaving."

His hand ticked out again toward her and the look on her face, more sincere than any time he had ever seen it before – more sincere than when they were in the throes of a failed engagement, more sincere than when he first kissed her – prompted him to grasp her gloved fingers, took her whole hand in his own and held his hat against his chest with the other. His blonde hair was parted and smoothed to the side and he somehow already looked older, matured just in the face of war. Mary was worried to think how he would look when he came home. She was too familiar of his light blue eyes, learned too well their nuances, their betrayal of what was really on his mind – although Matthew was never a particularly censored man.

"Nor I, karma for breaking it off with you perhaps?" The playful, lopsided smile back in place, the corners of his mouth threatening to broaden but he knew how to remain complacent.

"You would only get good karma, Matthew, for putting an end to the sideshow we had become." He took a step closer to her and put his hat on his head, took both of her hands in his own and held them to his chest the way he had held his hat.

"Just for a moment," She thought he said but his speech was as unreliable as her own just then.

Her breathing was irregular and she could not control it, her chest rising and falling rapidly and brushing against their clasped hands between them. Her breath was not coming quickly for lust or desire, no, but for the overwhelming sadness she felt, for the tears she could not possibly spill in front of him. Here he was, being brave and signing up long before he had to and she was worried about the chance missed, the could-have-been romance that they could not make up for now.

And it was okay that he held her hands and they had a stolen moment to be close, even though their not-quite engagement had not seen the light of day and even though she was a horrible person, she made him doubt so many things that he could not reliably believe she loved him at all – How dramatic that there would be a baby, a miscarriage, a possible new heir and then a retracted one, all around the time he proposed. He deserved to be angry but she also deserved a moment's breath. It had all turned so sharply, darkly, she truly imagined returning from the Season, wearing her light-coloured summer frock and setting her bag down, finding him on their lawn, smiling, and saying yes to him. It was the happiest thought she had the whole Season but coming back to Downton, it had all just turned.

"Mary," Her name a breath on his lips. "Things are about to change but you will come through it perfectly fine. Do what you can, play your part in all of this..."

"Oh Matthew," A benediction it had become, oh Matthew said more than she was able to. "Please be careful. Come home or don't leave, whichever you prefer. You have an entire life awaiting you after this war."

He wanted to kiss her and his nose brushed hers for the quickest of moments and then he remembered himself, tightened his jaw and released her.

He tipped his hat to her, "Lady Mary", he said and turned his back to her just as the motor pulled up for his departure. He shielded his eyes from the lights and then dug into his inside pocket, turned back to her and pressed a photo into her palm.

"For safekeeping." He said, matter-of-factly, quirked his lips and stepped into the car.

Lady Mary could not turn back inside until the lights had disappeared down the drive and she knew he was truly gone. There was no grappling with the thousand emotions bubbling in her that night. She went to bed and tucked his portrait beneath her pillow. There would be time to understand, she hoped, and she did not often dream but believed his eyes would find themselves in them that night.

- fin -