Note: This is my first fanfiction ever, but don't feel the need to be gentle! Take a chain saw to it, it's my favorite kind of critique. I don't own anything, that honor belongs to those wonderful people in England. Read and Review, Thanks!
It had been one week since conscription for the war had passed Parliament, and it would be three days until most of the men of Downton would leave for who knows how long. The men upstairs would probably return at the end with hardly a scratch, as they would be assigned to higher, less dangerous positions in the military. The boys downstairs...those were the ones Daisy worried for.
It was late and she was tired; the family had long since retired and the staff had gone to their quarters as well, but Daisy's duties often required her to be the last to bed and first to rise. She didn't mind horribly, the quiet gave her time enough to think, an occasion hard to come by under the eyes of Mrs Patmore. Tonight however, thoughts offered the kitchen maid no solace.
One thing, one person, demanded the full attention of her thoughts. William...by blindly following Thomas, she had helped make his life hell. She would have done anything for Thomas, foolish! she thought, scrubbing the counter clean. I was so blind! She had thought Thomas was the perfect model of a man, someone she wanted desperately to love her. But she was starting to think that it was not his love that she needed at all...
And now, Daisy would do anything to stop William going to war. He didn't deserve this fate; he was a good man, better than Thomas had ever been to her. William was always so kind to her, gentle, As if I were one of them pretty porcelain dolls.
Daisy continued her work, rushing around the kitchen to finish her nightly cleanup. "Why am I so damn short..." she muttered, standing on her tiptoes to store away a kettle on the top shelf of the cupboard. The spout knocked a pitcher off and Daisy let out a yelp as it shattered to the floor. "Blast it all," she cursed, standing amid the sharp fragments of glass on the previously spotless wooden floor.
"Don't move, you'll get them bits in your foot."
Daisy turned to see William standing in the threshold, in what looked like nightwear: flannel trousers and plain cotton shirt. She felt a blush form on her cheeks, embarrassed by both her clumsiness and seeing the man she might fancy in only sleep clothes.
"W-William, what are you doing down here?" She stuttered. "And it's alright, I can do it. Always breaking things, clumsy me...butter fingers, mum called me. And Mrs Patmore for that matter..." Daisy was aware she was rambling again, but that always seemed to happen when talking to William. His kind face made her want to tell him everything...
He chuckled, and made his way to where she was frozen. "Me boots are sturdier than those slippers you got on, I'll do it," he said, picking up the brush and dust pan. "And you look exhausted, you'll hurt yerself"
Daisy blushed again and mumbled words of thanks, and hoisted herself onto a sitting position on the long dining table. She noticed that he was indeed wearing his work boots, and was confused. "Are you going somewhere, William? You should be in bed...Mr Carson will be very cross with you if he finds you up."
William lowered himself on his knees to brush up the fractured glass. He answered with his back to her, and she was embarrassed that her eyes kept wandering to his shoulders. "I was thinking about going for a walk around the grounds, clear me head. Got a bit on the mind since...well..." His words drifted off, and he continued working in silence. Daisy understood. She always understood William, sometimes better than she understood her own thoughts.
"Are you very scared about going off to fight William?" She asked, leaning to see his face. It was pink, and looked like he was concentrating very hard. "I'm...anxious. It's my duty, and I'm honored to serve my country, but...yes, I'm a wee bit scared." He finished picking up the remnants of the pitcher, and disposed of the pieces in the waste basket. He turned to face her shyly, keeping a distance from where she sat.
"Do you think less of me for it, Daisy?"
She sat in silence, stunned. How could he think I would ever lose respect for him?
He sighed. "I know, I'm supposed to be glad for the chance to fight, to be brave. But that's not me. I'm not a fighting man, never have been. I'm hardly even a man."
Daisy jumped off the table and walked to where he was standing on the far side of the kitchen.
"Now you listen to me, William Mason. Being scared of war is the most natural thing in the world. I would be frightened for you if you weren't worried." Without thinking, she reached for his hand, and it was his turn to blush. "You are more of a man than most, and I think the world of you. Don't you think otherwise."
They stood there for quite a while like that, hand in hand. Like most of their conversations, an understanding was passed silently between them. She had already apologized a dozen times for all the horrible plots she had participated in for Thomas, but she hoped he knew how sorry she really was, for what she did, and what she failed to say.
"We should probably get to bed...that is, um, you should go, and then I should go..." William tripped over his words, embarrassed by the unintended connotation. Daisy smiled, and squeezed his hand once more. He bit his lip and, which must have been a split-second decision, leaned down to softly press his lips to hers. Daisy froze from both surprise and delight, and let his lips linger.
After a few moments, William broke away, face as red as a beet. Daisy, deliriously happy, wrung her hands and looked up at him hopefully, praying he didn't think it was a mistake. Finally, he spoke.
"Will you wait for me?"
She smiled, and let his arms wrap around her in an embrace. "Always," she whispered into his shoulder, "I promise."