A/N: This came to me at 3am, when I was lying awake staring at the ceiling. It's not entirely as I imagined it, because I had no paper in my bedroom to write it down immediately, but the general ideas are still the same. Basically the thoughts of Mr Carson when reflecting on houses and his lady love.

'I'm a pauper … I must work for as long as anyone will let me.'

The words were a revelation. He had never had cause to suspect that she was not in the same position as he. Even if he had once felt he would die at Downton, he never really thought he would still be working when it happened. Suddenly a lot of things clicked into place as he thought back on her reluctance to view any houses at all and her ability to pick holes in the properties he had persuaded her to walk around. Good grief – what an insensitive bear of a man he was. He thought he understood her completely and now she showed him he didn't know her at all.

I hope you buy it … I hope you're able to without me!'

He was … of course he was, but what was the point if he couldn't share it with her? He'd been so careful to present it as a business venture, thinking this was the best route; that he'd court her as they were planning refurbishments, or even when they were running things together. Foolish man to think that such a glacial pace would suit her – she who had always embraced change head on.

He was about to protest that she had read him wrong, that this wasn't a business venture, but they were interrupted. Such was the lot of the people whose heads bore the crowns. She was his professional queen. He'd have to think again on how to convince her to queen of his heart as well.

I thought you'd like to know I've bought the house.'

She seemed genuinely happy for him. That at least was progress. Now wasn't the time for romance though, there were household matters to discuss. Besides, it could hardly be considered romantic to reveal one's heart as the object of it sat wrapping presents for the staff (for him). The moment needed to be perfect, although he still wasn't sure when that moment would be.

'Why not?!' …. 'You don't want to be stuck with me.'

He had thought it best to present it as the old business venture first, but it seemed to leave a sour taste in her mouth and she rejected the offer, not seeming to realise the underlying feelings he was trying to reveal without startling her. It wasn't going to work. He'd have to open his heart to her and risk having it dashed to pieces. He took a deep breath and said the words which would bind him or undo him. 'I do want to be stuck with you.'

Some time later (far later than either of them had wishes, for they had had to endure Mrs Patmore's dissection of the events of the year, which had run on for an hour before she'd admitted defeat and gone to bed), they sat sipping their sherries, sending each other smiles at odd moments. She stretched in her seat, trying to relieve some odd ache and gave a tinkling giggle.

'So we own the house on Brounker Road!'

'I wouldn't exactly say that!', he said, his eyes twinkling over the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

'But you said you'd put my name on the deed!' She creased her brow and then gave a small huff of annoyance. 'Oh, I suppose you mean what's yours is mine … now is not the time for semantics, Mr Carson!'

He chuckled, drawing her hand into his. 'No, that's not what I meant. Your name is, indeed, on the deed, but it doesn't relate to the Brounker Road house.'

'Then where?' She thought for a moment and then realisation dawned. 'You didn't buy Leighton Cottage did you?'

'I did' He delighted in the beam of happiness and excitement that infused her face. 'It occurred to me that I didn't really want to go into business with you. I wanted a life to share, and therefore we didn't need four bedrooms.'

'And if I'd refused you?', she asked, looking concerned.

'Then I could offer you a shelter on your afternoons off once I'd retired. It seemed a better idea to buy a house in the village rather than make you get the bus, then hike up the road. It would have cut into the time we could share.'

'And would that have been enough?', she asked, her face a picture of worry and wonder at how much he'd thought this through.

'Not nearly enough, but I would have taken what I could get.'

Her eyes softened, much like they had a few hours before. She moved to place her glass on the table, which was slightly awkward given he still had a grip on her other hand, and then cupped his face, smoothing her fingers over his cheek.

'Then it's just as well I love you and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you in that house.'

With that, she drew his face towards her and kissed him tenderly on the lips – their first embrace, but certainly not their last, as the walls of the house Mr Carson had bought would have attested to, had it ever been asked.

A/N: That's it really. Slightly inspired by the BTS photos of Mrs Hughes/Carson and Mrs Patmore standing outside a house with 'Leighton cottage' on it. I had a conversation at some point (I can't remember who now!) who pointed out that Mr Carson never actually *says* he bought the house on Brounker road ….

As always, reviews are much appreciated.