These moments happen.
Hey! This is my first Downton fic, so decided to base it on my fav couple. I've no idea where this came from. I was re-watching a few eps and suddenly this idea just kinda hit me, because these moments happen right?! It's just a bit of fun, probably OOC and should only be a one-shot. I hope you enjoy it and please R&R!
Pushing his desk chair back slightly, Charles Carson looked down and, with a sigh, said, "Mrs Hughes, is this really necessary right at this moment?"
"Yes."
The irritated answer drifted up from somewhere under his desk, and he responded with another sigh as he shuffled some papers he needed to work on around his desk.
"I really do have some urgent work to complete."
"Well, don't let me stop you."
Her Scottish tones were muffled by the barrier of the desk, and she shuffled back into his line of vision. Elsie Hughes, Housekeeper at Downton Abbey, his colleague, sparring partner and the unadmitted love of his life was on her hands and knees in front of him, groping around on the floor whilst wearing a rather grumpy expression. At least he imagined it was grumpy. For the moment, that part of her body was still obscured by the desk drawers.
Having covered the area under the desk, she began to pat the floor beside his chair as she mumbled ill-temperedly about how the number of creases on her dress were rapidly increasing due to the awkward position she was in. Giving up any hope of completing the work he had to do, Carson stood, trying to keep out of her way as she shifted further back underneath the desk. A comment of 'It must be here somewhere!' came from where his foot had just been, and just as he opened his mouth to offer his assistance, the phone in his pantry burst into life.
He answered it with the usual introduction of his name and job title, and soon discovered the call was to confirm an order of groceries which Mrs Patmore had been badgering him for. Having been expecting this call, Mr Carson had left the appropriate file at his desk and, without thinking, he sat back down in the chair and pulled open the bottom drawer to retrieve it.
"Ouch!"
Mrs Hughes' face appeared near his knee, her cheeks flushed and eyes flashing as she fixed him with as icy a glare as she could muster whilst on all fours under his desk. Having winced at the sound of the wooden drawer colliding with her head, Carson waved the folder at her in apology, gesturing for her to turn so he could check the collision zone. A few seconds later, after a long, pointed stare, she obliged and with a quick check he ascertained that while there'd be a rather nasty bruise, there was no blood and signalled for her to continue her search. Only just resisting from rolling her eyes, she huffed and disappeared back into the dark recesses of the desk. With a slight hitch of breath, he felt her brush the bottom of his trousers as she moved around his legs, and he stood as quickly as he could whilst avoiding stepping on her fingers. The thought of what the rest of the staff or the Crawley family would say if they were to witness this made his face flush red and he took a few moments to offer a silent prayer to the Gods – or whoever the hell was in charge of these things – that no one would require the presence of either the Butler or the Housekeeper.
It was a mercifully short conversation – Carson's thoughts weren't, for once, on work – and after hanging up he peered down under his desk. Surely an earring couldn't be that hard to find?
"Any luck, Mrs Hughes?"
"If I had any, I wouldn't still be crawling down here now, would I Mr Carson?" Her unprofessionally peevish tone which he didn't have the heart to bring her up on was enough for him to remain silent and allow her to continue the rant she'd clearly been planning whilst acquainting herself with the floor under his desk. "If you had left me to find Anna instead of getting me to check that list I wouldn't have dropped the earring…"
Carson shook his head. He would've guessed it would end up being his fault, however he didn't feel it was the right time to remind her she'd voluntarily dropped into his pantry on a completely unrelated matter and he'd just happened to have finished the wine list at the time. The earring belonged to Lady Mary and had been missing for a few days, and having spotted it in the grounds that morning, Mrs Hughes had retrieved it and was on her way to give it to Anna to return to the eldest Crawley daughter when she'd passed Carson's pantry and had decided to drop in to ask his opinion on something. A decision which miraculously was turning out to be the Butler's doing.
He was about to offer a logical remark about the fact that she'd most likely have dropped it anyway and would just be on her hands and knees elsewhere searching for it when a loud knock on the door made them both jump. He was dimly aware of hearing Mrs Hughes' head hit the underside of the table as she tried to scramble out.
Looking up, Carson saw the door start to open. It was like a kind of comic horror movie, and he gave a small groan at the realisation he wouldn't be able to move out of the way and get Mrs Hughes out by the time the intruder could witness the scene. Why did whoever was on the other side of the door pick this exact visit to the pantry to ignore the rules of being invited in? It was going to be too embarrassing to contemplate.
The Butler was about to be caught with the Housekeeper's head between his legs.
No matter how many excuses about lost earrings and schedules he gave, it would take a very long time to live that down. Not to mention the small matter of their professionalism and conduct being called into question. The staff would never take an order seriously from them again. So, with Mrs Hughes still struggling to free herself from the confines of the desk and the door almost no longer acting as a barrier to the scene, he did the only thing he could think of.
He put his hand on top of her head and pushed her firmly back down and out of sight.
"May I ask, Mr Barrow, the point of knocking if you don't wait for an invitation before entering?"
He heard a tiny strangled sound from by his knee.
"Sorry, Mr Carson," Thomas replied, that egotistical smirk etched on his face at the thought of having irritated the Butler without even saying 'hello'. "I heard voices so didn't think you would hear me knocki-…"
Thomas broke off as he took in the fact the office only had one visible occupant apart from himself and Carson looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Yes?"
"Is everything ok?"
"Certainly, Thomas, why do you ask?"
He could feel Mrs Hughes shaking with silent laughter and, in an attempt to remind her of the need for silence, he nudged her with his foot.
"You just look a bit flushed. That's all."
Evidently the reminder didn't work. A soft snort came from under the desk, and the usually controlled Thomas allowed a look of surprise to flit across his face. He looked genuinely concerned now. With a sinking realisation, Carson almost groaned out loud. There wasn't much that he could say to cover that noise. Except…
"Indigestion, Thomas."
Still. It was better than the alternative.
He wondered briefly if 'Death by Embarrassment' would be accepted by the coroner for his death certificate.
Thomas looked like he was torn between amusement and disbelief while Carson felt Mrs Hughes double over against his leg, desperately trying to regain some composure. He nudged her again, which just fuelled her amusement. She really was indebted to him for this.
"Are you going to remain there all day, Mr Barrow, or shall we continue with our already busy schedules?"
"Right, sorry, Mr Carson." Thomas seemed to recover himself. "I have the schedule here for the staff's half days this month and your signature is needed before I can inform them when they are. However, some of the staff want to change their days, for different reasons. For example, Mr Bates wants to change his to the same Wednesday as Anna as they want to spend the time together, and so you and Mrs Hughes will need to discuss if you can alter some of the days. I can't find Mrs Hughes anywhere and so I came here, but it's not urgent if you're…uh…unwell."
Carson tried not to react to the mention of the seemingly elusive Housekeeper. "No, I'm perfectly well thank you. I have a few things to finish here, so if you could try to locate Mrs Hughes and inform her of the situation I would be grateful. We'll be sure to see to it before the day is over."
"Of course, Mr Carson. Thank you."
With a nod, his underbutler backed out of the pantry, and Carson waited a few moments to check Thomas wasn't lurking by the door before he pushed his chair back to fix Mrs Hughes with what he hoped was a stern, icy glare.
"Very funny."
As she slowly crawled out, he could see the tears of pent up laughter streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders still shaking with the effort of containing her laughter, and as she finally gave into the giggles, she had to put her hands on his knees and thighs to help her up off the floor.
"Indigestion?" She finally managed to question, resting on the edge of the desk to support herself.
"If you'd just kept quiet…"
"Well you should have let me get out!" She retorted playfully.
"And let Thomas Barrow see you emerge from…down there?"
Touché.
"Point taken. I guess it could've looked a little…"
"Risqué?" Carson supplied.
"Risqué." She confirmed, before holding up a tiny piece of jewellery for him to see. "I found it though."
"Oh good."
"Gold earring on beige flooring." She gazed at him with an innocent look. "Like a needle in a haystack."
"Apparently so."
She grinned at his cool and appraising demeanour, knowing she could have a lot of fun in the future with the knowledge of his discomfort about what had just happened.
"I think I owe you a glass of sherry tonight, for saving me so heroically."
"Indeed you do."
She suddenly became aware of their close proximity as he looked down at her with a gaze that pinned her to the spot. She knew she should move and rectify the situation, but couldn't bring herself to break his gaze. She could've sworn he'd moved closer, perhaps only by half a step, when a loud bang outside in the hallway snapped them out of their reverie. Instinctively, she jumped backwards, forgetting that behind her was the large desk she'd been hiding under, and not open space. With a hiss, she collided with the wood, her hip taking the brunt of the impact. With all the effort she could muster she refrained from rubbing it to soothe the pain, and realised this was the third bruise she'd received in probably as many minutes.
"I should go." She said, in an attempt to break the silence. "Thomas will be searching the whole house otherwise."
Carson nodded at her, with a small smile at the thought of Thomas currently embarking on a fool's errand. She grinned back, and turned to leave, but paused on her way to the door.
"Oh, on second thoughts Mr Carson?"
He looked over, and noticed a wicked glint in her eye that he felt sure would only mean trouble for him.
"Lunch out might be a better repayment. I've heard sherry is notoriously bad for sensitive stomachs."
Carson waited until she had gone before allowing a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth, and his hand settled on the spot on his lap where she'd touched.
Being in charge of the final schedule, he knew that they could arrange it so their half days off fell on the same day, and was seriously considering the possibility of lunch with the Housekeeper, or maybe afternoon tea.
His smile widened at the prospect, while his cheeks burned at the memory of their near kiss.
Perhaps trying to locate the missing earring wasn't as inconvenient as he first thought.
Even if he did have to face the wrath of Thomas Barrow's mocking.