Just something that has been clogging up my brain. Poor Miss O Brien, I know she wasn't nice but I did like her. I think she deserved a smidgen of happiness, bitter old bag that she was.

I own nothing.

Sarah O Brien was in a foul mood. She had just spent the last hour and a half wandering the markets of India trying to find a new bottle of hairspray for her new mistress. When she had been forced to admit defeat, she had returned home and had been given a tongue lashing second to none for not having it and was sent out again.

This time she turned left once she got to the road instead of right and headed off in a direction she hadn't had a chance to explore yet. It was even busier this side of things, with people everywhere, trying to sell her a lot of stuff she would never ever use.

She missed Downton, missed Thomas, missed Lady Grantham, and her nephew Alfred. Hell she even missed Mrs Hughes, the house keeper who always seemed to know when Sarah was up to no good.

Susan MacClare, as it turned out, was not as nice as any of the Crawley family. She even managed to make the Dowager Countess look meek and mild, a feat that was not easily accomplished.

Half of the problem was that she had no friends here. Not that she had any at Downton either, except for Thomas. But she knew the people, knew what she could talk about and what she couldn't. She knew that Anna would laugh at a certain joke, knew that the footmen were easily teased. Even Mrs Hughes had laughed once or twice at something she had said. And there had always been Alfred to fall back on in the last few years.

It almost made her want to go back, throw herself at their feet and beg for forgiveness. But she was much too proud for any of that. Besides, she had left to get away from the guilt. The guilt of listening to Thomas and allowing her anger to cloud her judgement on that horrible afternoon.

The guilt would stay with her forever, but at least here it wouldn't be staring her in the face every day. Although, as her feet ached and the sweat dripped down her spine she allowed herself to wonder which was worse.

She reached down into her pocket and pulled out her packet of cigarettes, a habit she still maintained on the sly, despite her Mistresses orders to stop. She was searching for her lighter when she collided with something warm and solid.

"Watch it!" she exclaimed, the frown deepening on her forehead. Strong hands wrapped around her elbow's and steadied her.

"I'm terribly sorry" and soft voice said. Hang on. She knew that voice.

She looked up and found herself staring into the familiar blue eyes of Henry Lang.

"Miss O Brien?" he asked in surprise "what on earth are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question" she answered, her voice not coming out as sharp as she intended.

"I live here now." Mr Lang answered, still gripping her elbows. "I got a job as Valet to the Governor."

"I got a job with Lady Flinture." Shesupplied, strangely not minding how close they were standing. "How are you Mr Lang? Better than when I last saw you, I hope."

"Much." He answered. "I spoke to a doctor, and that helped a lot. Being away from England helps. There's nothing here to remind me of it all. What about you? I never thought I'd see you leave Downton."

"I needed a change." She answered guardedly "Downton had become monotonous, and you know me, bored easily."

Mr Lang nodded thoughtfully

"Well, I have to get back." He said, releasing her and stepping backward. He tipped his hat and with a

"It was lovely seeing you again." he was walking away. Sarah ducked her head to hide a smile and continued to walk in the direction she was headed, cigarettes completely forgotten.

"Miss O Brien?" he called and she turned to back to face him "I'd like to see you again, if that's alright?"

"I'd like that Mr Lang." She called back "I'd like that a lot."

Far across the ocean, in the kitchen of a large house called Downton Abbey, the Cook and the House Keeper stood sharing a quick cup of tea.

"What do you suppose Miss O Brien is doing these days?" The Cook asked "found love perhaps?"

The House Keeper snorted into her tea before laughing

"If she's got a boyfriend, then I'm a giraffe."

Please leave a review if you can spare the time. It means a lot to me. Oh and there was a bit of confusion with Mr Lang's name. I used the one on Wiki.