A/N: Well lookie here, after over 2 years, I'm finally publishing something. I got really fed up with the lack of Corah (i.e. I read all the Corah and was starved for more, oh so sad) and started writing this on a plane ride, on the way to visit my grandparents. I didn't get very far because I didn't really know where I wanted the story to go. Then I was talking to AlaskaMarina and suddenly had a fabulously wonderful idea (or, as I put it, a "terrible. good. terrible idea. it is not good because it is terrible.") and had to write it. So I wrote the rest of this chapter, then let it sit for a while. My plan was to revisit it later and see if I still thought it was okay to post. Although I'm not sure about the title or the rating at the moment, I feel okay with it. So, without further ado, the first chapter.

1.

"He never!" "Oh, he did all right! He… " Sitting down at the table, Sarah tuned out the idle chatter of the other servants. (She was quite good at it by now, having to stomach the idiocy of the others on a daily basis.) She closed her eyes for a brief moment of respite, giving her eyes a rest. As much as she'd love to fall asleep, just to get away from it all, Sarah knew as well as anyone that there was work to be done, and besides, she really couldn't anyway. Instead, she opened her eyes and picked up her needle to mend her ladyship's chemise, which had somehow ripped the day before. Perhaps if she could finish all the mending before her ladyship rang the bell, she would allow herself a few moments' rest.

Inevitably, the ring of the bell echoed through the room before she had finished. Sarah gracefully rose, biting back a sigh (her ladyship had rung a bit early today) and ascended the stairs. Lately, it seemed as though her ladyship was not pleased by Sarah's performance—although her actions belied nothing, why else would she speak of ladies' maids with the Dowager Countess? Sarah had no idea what she was doing wrong and was more than a little irate about it. (It didn't help that she was so very hungry.)

Accompanied by her sour thoughts, Sarah eventually reached her ladyship's room. She knocked sharply, and hearing a "Come in" on the other side, she pushed the door open and walked into the room. Lady Grantham sat on a chaise, book in hand. When Sarah walked in, she looked up and smiled beatifically. "Good afternoon, O'Brien," Cora intoned. To this day, over a decade after she'd begun working as her ladyship's maid, she was still mildly surprised by the woman's gentle and polite manner. She knew other lady's maids were not so lucky. "Afternoon, milady," Sarah answered, almost giving her a small smile (after all, Cora was the one person she had actually liked in this house) but remembering that her ladyship was looking to replace her and becoming rather angry again. She was able to school her face into a pleasant (enough) visage for her ladyship to suspect that nothing was amiss. If Lady Grantham was going to let her go, Sarah wouldn't give her the pleasure of seeing how it affected her. She would find other work, and put Cora out of her mind. "You're awfully quiet today, O'Brien. Something on your mind?" Cora inquired. "No, milady, just thinking of what needs to be done," Sarah answered. Cora nodded, accepting the answer. Sarah wondered why Cora had called her up early, but she wouldn't ask. Soon enough, Cora began to speak. "I wondered if I could ask you a few more questions about lady's maids—how long did it take you to settle in?" And so began a short conversation about Sarah's position that, coupled with her hunger, made the pleasant face terribly hard to keep on.

"The gall of that woman," Sarah thought, "to talk about my replacement right in front of me!" The uncomfortable conversation continued as Sarah drew the bath water. But finally, "that woman" was done grilling her and Sarah had to get her prepared for her bath. Unpinning her ladyship's hair, she quickly checked herself in the mirror. A common misconception was that Sarah did not care about her appearance. In fact, she cared a great deal. Satisfied that all was well with her own appearance, she focused on her ladyship. After buttons unbuttoned, laces unlaced, and clothing removed, her ladyship was ready for her bath.

Everyone knew that Lady Grantham took long baths. Sarah wished, in this moment, that she didn't. She was awfully hungry, and not too happy that her position was disappearing in front of her. To make matters worse, her ladyship smelled very, very nice. Usually she could block that out, but she supposed that she was too upset to do so now. Her whole body tense, Sarah just needed to get out of her ladyship's sight. Instead, she had to—"Oh, I've dropped my soap. Would you retrieve it for me please, O'Brien?"—pick up some damn soap from the ground, since her ladyship could do practically nothing on her own. Looking down, she saw the soap was split in half. One half was difficult to reach, as it was under the bathtub, so she kicked it and gave the other half to her ladyship. The soap half ended up near where Lady Grantham might step out, but if the stupid cow didn't look where she stepped, it wasn't Sarah's problem. She left to lay out her ladyship's clothes. Suddenly, she looked up and into the mirror. "Sarah O'Brien, you're a 'vegetarian' for god's sake. That isn't you," she suddenly thought, and looked over to see Cora getting out of the tub. "Milady!" she called out, and Cora glanced over, but it was too late, because she was slipping on the soap and Sarah was running, sprinting to her, and as Cora fell to the floor, Sarah reached her just in time to catch her and break her fall. Water splashed everywhere, running down Sarah's face and clothes. But all that mattered was her ladyship's safety. She knew that now. (She didn't even deserve her job, not after that stupid stunt.)

"O'Brien…?" At the angle Sarah was holding her ladyship, Cora couldn't easily see Sarah's face.
"Milady, are you hurt?"
"N-no, I'm fine." Cora did look uninjured, though very pale.

"Right, let's get you to bed, have a bit of a lie down."

Cora nodded her acquiescence, and Sarah carried her to her bed. She lay the woman down, and Cora relaxed, closing her eyes briefly. But she opened her eyes—Sarah didn't know why—and, upon looking at Sarah, they widened considerably, her mouth agape.

Sarah furrowed her brow. "What…?" Suddenly, face still wet with water, she put two and two together, and ran over to the mirror. And sure as hell, the damn non-waterproof makeup was running down her face. "Fuck," she muttered. Now she had to lie to the woman, and she was so shaken herself that she didn't know if she could even do so convincingly. Perhaps if she could get her ladyship to take a quick nap, she could write it all off as a concussion or a dream or—why didn't she have a set story for this occasion? Well, she did, she knew she did, but for the life of her she couldn't even recall it. She—"O'Brien…?"

Her ladyship's eyes were still wide but she had closed her mouth. Sarah sighed. "Yes, I know this is strange, but if you would just sleep for a few minutes, I'll explain afterwards." She cajoled the woman into accepting, though reluctantly.

Once Cora finally fell asleep, Sarah moved into quick action. Luckily she kept spare makeup stuffed in an inside pocket, and was very quick at doing it by now (as she'd had lots of practice.) She sopped up all the liquid on the floor and set the bathroom right in record time. Finally, she did a quick check around to make sure everything looked proper—that nothing would prove to Cora that something odd had actually happened. Hopefully she'd buy Sarah's story and everything would be okay. Sarah sat in a chair in her ladyship's room, waiting for her to wake and trying to compose herself.

She sensed her ladyship's eyes snap open and calmly walked over to her. "O'Brien, what…what happened?"

"Milady, I managed to catch you in time from your fall but you fainted. You woke up, from some dream I'd imagine, but fell asleep quickly. I thought it best to let you sleep, since you did not seem to be concussed or injured in any way."

Cora smiled. "Thank you, O'Brien. I can always count on you." She furrowed her brow. "But…wait, your face!" She started, sitting upright. "You told me you'd explain!"

Here was the hard part, where Sarah had to look absolutely confused. "What are you goin' on about, milady?"

"Your face! It changed, it was different, it…" her ladyship was making herself breathless.

"Calm down, milady!" Sarah ordered. "Surely you just dreamt whatever this nonsense is."

Cora did not seem to quite believe the statement, but she accepted it, apparently happy to write the odd situation off as a dream.

"Now, let's get you dressed for dinner," Sarah stated, indicating that the conversation was over. Hopefully for good…but knowing Cora, that wouldn't be the case.

And…it wasn't. "O'Brien, how did I get makeup on me?"

Fuck.