A/N: This is intended as a belated birthday present for the fabulous Brenna-Louise. When I asked her what she'd like to read, she said 'in my head for like three years has been the wish for Charles and Elsie to share a waltz or two, in their cottage, with sweet kisses and foreheads touching as they smile into each other's eyes.' Simple I thought, and then had epic failure when I tried to think of a situation to hang it around. It was suggested by a patient friend that it could be their anniversary, but I've got plans for that, and they don't include dancing (well, possibly they do, but not to this extent). Anyway, I finally found a way in, and have just told my anachronistic conscience to sod off as it complained about the music chosen. I'll explain all of that at the end.

In the meantime, enjoy, and happy belated birthday to Brenna-Louise!

To the casual observer, this Sunday in early March was no different from the others which had preceded it, although it was perhaps a touch brighter and warmer, and the irises that were pushing up through the earth of the churchyard seemed to declare that Spring was only just around the corner.

Elsie Carson was not, as most would acknowledge, a casual observer, and to her, this Sunday was heavily weighted with meaning. She felt the pressure of a great many unvoiced thoughts upon her heart.

The day was significant because on the morrow she would rise from bed at her usual early hour, and her husband would not. She would dress and make her way to the Abbey leaving him behind. Retirement had finally, officially, taken place, after an intense period of training with Mr Barrow. Whilst everything had gone surprisingly well, she knew he would be feeling some pain, as indeed was she. There had been a farewell celebration for Mr Carson on Friday, and Lady Grantham had gently suggested that his wife might like to take the weekend off. Cora did not say that she knew the housekeeper would find the new situation difficult, but it was implied in the fond smile she bestowed on the couple as the entire household toasted Mr Carson's departure.

They had had an entirely relaxed Saturday, and Sunday had gone much the same way until after lunch, when Mr Carson had decided to stroll to the village, on the pretext of finding out how much time it took when one was not on a hurried errand for the Abbey. So she had taken up her battered copy of 'Persuasion' and settled on the sofa in their sitting room. It was a book she always returned to at this time of year, the second chances depicted in the story seemingly fitting with the new life the season brought. The wireless was tuned to the BBC's easy listening programme and the gentle strains of some tune or other floated about the room.

Her attention was drawn from Anne Eliot's first meeting with her former love by the radio announcer. 'Now, Rudy Vallee gives us a new rendition of that charming song 'If you were the only girl in the world.'

She gave a soft 'oh' of surprise and then smiled as the familiar opening of the song began. She had not heard the tune for many years, in fact now she thought it, the last time might well have been the night of the soldier's entertainment, when Mr Crawley and William had arrived so unexpectedly in the middle of it, safe after all the worry of their being missing ….

The happy memory turned treacherous and she was filled with an overwhelming sadness. The song carried on through her pain, and she couldn't bear to listen to it any longer, tears springing into her eyes. Tea, she needed tea, and she made her way to the kitchen, heading straight for the range, not noticing the figure at the table at the other end of the room.

Mr Carson had arrived home about a quarter of an hour ago, and had peeked into the sitting room, discovering his wife completely lost in her book. He had been loath to break the comfortable scene and decided to read the paper he had collected in the village in the kitchen. Her sudden entrance startled him, but what concerned him more was that she seemed close to tears. She had grasped the kettle, but had not turned to fill it. Instead she stood stock still, head bowed over the object, taking a few deep breaths.

'Are you alright my love?'

His question cut through the silence sharply, although he had not spoken very loudly and she gasped as she whirled around, still clasping the kettle.

'Charles! When did you get back?'

He relayed the information and the reason why he had not joined her as he set down the paper, pushed back his chair and stood so he could move to her.

'What's wrong?'

He reached for the kettle and replaced it on the range, never taking his gaze from her face.

She laughed a little and shook her head. 'It's silly really, to be upset over a song. 'If you were the only girl' was playing, and it put me in mind of Mr Crawley and William. Their grand entrance.' They shared a smile at the memory, but hers faded as the other thoughts returned. She reached for his hand as she continued. 'And then I remembered the other time William came back to us, and his horrid death; and Mr Crawley, just at his greatest happiness; and Lady Sybil and Mr Gregson, and all the others who have gone too soon …' Her voice cracked as she ran through the litany of sorrow and she tried very hard not to cry, but one tear slipped out anyway and solemnly rolled down hr cheek.

Charles took a step forward and gathered her in his arms, wrapping them about her, pressing her head into his chest so that she might cry and not be seen, if she wanted to.

'I know, I know', he murmured, rubbing soothing circles across her back. He did not remind her of all that were still living, or chide her for sentimentality. He had learned a great deal about the remarkable woman in his arms over the past year, and knew most of all she did not get emotional easily. Her tears were all the more remarkable for the fact they were so rare.

'There's something else, isn't there, that's making you so upset?' he asked. He'd had no complaints about their time together the past few days, but he still sensed the unspoken thoughts whirling about her mind.

'Mmmm' she agreed, but just nestled further into his embrace. He thought she placed a kiss to his chest as her face remained hidden from him, and the love he felt for this woman surged through him powerfully. It still amazed him that he had it in his gift to make her happy and that the two of them could face the world and its troubles, so long as they did it together. They'd both needed to learn the ways marriage changed that dynamic, but since New Year they'd been startlingly honest. He thought he knew the real root of her unhappiness and why it caused her to remain cocooned in his arms when she would normally have pulled away after a few moments. He risked being wrong as he spoke.

'You're going to manage perfectly without me tomorrow you know.'

She gasped into his shirt and clenched the fabric at his back slightly before loosening her hold and stepping back to look up at him, wonder that he should read her so well and disbelief at his certainty etched into her eyes and the crease on her brow.

'I'm not so sure Charles.' she said shaking her head, lifting her hands from her hips to his shoulders, running them up and down his biceps.

'Mr Barrow will do quite well, and I've no qualms about working with him, but I know I'll be looking for your shadow and listening for your voice every moment of the day.'

'And when you return at night, I'll be right here to get under your feet and make your head ache with this booming tone of mine.' He leaned forward to bestow a kiss to her forehead and heard her sigh in what he hoped was contentment.

'But will you though?' She still sounded dispirited and he looked down at her, concerned to note that she was vigorously chewing on her lip. 'You know as well as I do how late things can go on.'

'If you think for one moment I won't wait up to see you, ask you questions about your day …'

'But it could be so late Charles!'

He did not answer straight away, but instead lowered his lips to hers, kissing her languidly, to show her how much time they had to love each other in this way, but he also drew her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling lightly on it, which elicited a breathy moan from her – a sound he loved possibly more than any of the other noises she produced when they made love. He pulled back and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling as she moved her head slightly so she could fleetingly kiss his knuckles as they floated past her lips.

'I love you Elsie and from now on, you're going to get up and go to the Abbey, carry out your duties as you always have, and then come home to me. Do everything as you have always done it, and when you get to the last part, I'll be right here, ready to listen to whatever you have to say, to make love if you want, to fall asleep with you in my arms. That's the deal.'

She couldn't speak as he soothed the fears that had gripped her since his retirement had been agreed, the selfish part of her wanting to keep him near at all times, but not yet ready to give up her own work to do so. There was Becky too. The payment of her care a subject they never spoke about.

Her hands skimmed his shoulders and linked about his neck, her fingers carding through his hair as she drew his face towards her. She was too impatient to wait for the small gap between them to close and raised up on her toes so that their lips melded together almost as soon as he'd finished speaking.

Neither could get enough of the other as they embraced passionately in their kitchen, the battle ground which had become a safe haven. They had kissed hundreds of times before, but even now they found a new quality in the love being communicated. Gratitude for the support they gave each other was spiced with the certainty of the mutual love and desire they felt. The intimacy of it all left them breathless and their lips parted, but neither moved out of their fierce embrace and lips kissed whatever body part they could reach.

A crash from somewhere beyond the kitchen caused Mrs Carson to spring out of her husband's arms. 'What on earth was that?'

'I'm not sure I heard anything' Mr Carson replied, proving once again that his ability to lie was woefully inadequate.

'Well I did – there's someone in the house Charles!'

Before he could stop her, she had whipped away from him and into the sitting room where she found Fred, the hallboy, desperately trying to pick up the little table he had knocked over, whilst simultaneously trying to hide the gramophone behind him. Which, given the size of the brass horn, was completely impossible and therefore not worth the effort.

'Oh Mr Carson, I'm sorry! Mr Branson drove me over, but I said I could manage on my own because I thought the two of us would make too much noise and you'd explicitly said to be quiet and I was doing fine, but I couldn't see over the top of it and I crashed into something and now I've ruined the surprise.'

All this had been said very fast, and now a red faced Fred stood, breathing heavily, looking down at the floor. A low chuckle caused him to snap his eyes up in surprise. Was Mr Carson laughing at his blunder? He was!

'It's alright Fred. Thank you for your efforts. You'd best be getting back though – has Mr Branson not waited?'

Fred shook his head. 'I wanted to walk back. I do like the lane when it's sunny.'

'So do I' said Mrs Carson, speaking for the first time since she'd entered the room, flashing the hallboy a conspiratorial smile before turning back to look at the gramophone. She did not notice Mr Carson showing Fred out, nor her husband returning to the room.

'It's the one from the Abbey' he said, correctly understanding her unspoken question. 'I asked Lady Mary if we might have it. I thought we could do with some music …' his voice faded as she did not reply and he wondered if he had misjudged the gift. He was swiftly reassured as she turned and smiled at him.

'It was a lovely thought and very generous of Lady Mary.' She moved towards him and gave him a mischievous smile. 'I do find a flaw in your plan though.'

'Oh?'

'We've nothing to play on it! I can't imagine you being willing to use the kind of records Lady Rose favoured!'

'That' he said, tapping her nose lightly 'is where you are wrong.' He turned and left the room for a moment returning with a square packet in his hands. 'May I present you with the real reason I went to the village today. I'd ordered them ages ago, but they only arrived yesterday. Mrs Wiggins let me know after church, but obviously I couldn't get them with you there!'

'Well' she said, reaching out for the packet and pulling off the brown paper. Gertrude Lawrence Sings was on top of the pile, and she draw out the record, placing it expertly on the machine, moving the needle to its place.

Moments after she had completed these actions, the clear tones of Someone to Watch Over Me filled the room. Mrs Carson stood quite still as she listened to the new tune, although she sent a smile in her husband's direction as heard the line 'looking everywhere, haven't found him yet' and then refocussed her attention to the tune. Soon the music started to swell and she gasped as the sentiment of the song filled her mind. She reached out her hand to him and leaned into his side as he came to stand never to her, her head naturally falling against his shoulder, whilst his arm snaked about her waist.

'That was lovely' she said quietly as the song came to an end, the needle scratching the surface of the record, the ticks it made loud now there was no music to cover it. He hummed in agreement and reached for the cardboard sleeve as the next song began.

'Ah yes, Lady Rose spoke highly of this when she was here – I asked her advice you see.'

The quiet notes of Someday I'll Find You permeated the sitting room, and once again Elsie felt that the song had tapped into her very soul. The lyrics could have been written for them. 'We shall stand, hand in hand' sang Gertrude Lawrence, and it was the most natural thing in the world to turn fully to him, and link her hand with his.

He smiled down at her and placed his free hand at her waist.

'Might I have this dance, Mrs Carson?'

She smiled in delight as she placed her hand on his shoulder and gasped as he swiftly twirled her about, before settling to a more sedate waltz to accommodate the cramped dance floor their sitting room had become.

'Just think – I'm dancing with a man, who's danced with a girl, who's danced with the Prince of Wales!' she said, laughing slightly as she referenced a song which had become popular in the last month.

He rolled his eyes. 'That song! I think I'm a much better dancer than him.'

She agreed with him (although really she had no actual knowledge), but the way he preened as he said it made her pause before voicing her thought, teasing him as she appeared to consider it. He saw her eyes gleam and did not miss a beat as he took up the challenge and span her around and around, making her clutch his shoulder a little firmer and gasp for the safety of their furniture as her shirt whirled about her ankles. He came to a sudden stop and looked down at her, his eyebrow raised in question.

'Oh yes, my love' she laughed, 'You are a much better dancer!'

They had been so wrapped up in the waltz and their shared laughter that they had missed the change in the tune. She heard some lyrics quite suddenly, the poignancy of the line hitting her. 'The dearest things I know are what you are' claimed the singer, and she moved out of his arms so that she might begin the song again. Twice, in her eagerness, she dropped the needle too early, so snatches of the previous songs were heard, but on the third try, she dropped it in the correct place and the lush sounds of the song, which had so captured her attention, began.

'All the things you are' Charles whispered to her, perusing the record's cover and pulling her into his arms again, although he didn't really intend to waltz properly this time. They stood, swaying lightly to the music, allowing it to wash over them as they listened to the words that might have been written for them.

The last notes played out and Charles broke away to lift the needle from the record, unwilling to break the spell with new music. 'All the things you are Elsie' he said, looking down at her. 'You are everything to me.'

'And you to me' she said seriously, her blue eyes blazing with the fierce truth she revealed. She laid her hand over his heart and rose up to kiss him, conveying in the touch of her lips the depth of her emotions.

They stayed like that for quite some time, wrapped up in their loving embrace, sharing the emotions which had united them so late in life. More music filled the room as the evening progressed and they took the opportunity to dance once again.

As the hours slipped away and the dreaded tomorrow crept closer, Charles and Elsie Carson waltzed together into their future.

A/N: Ok, so I found all these lovely songs and then realised they were about a decade too late for when the story was set, but then I figured they would have been alive when the songs were released, so sod it!

The bit about 'that's the deal' …. I was inspired by a beautiful scene in Shadowlands for that. If you've not seen it, go do so now, but make sure you have a gigantic box of tissues by your side.

Rudy Vallee did indeed record a version of 'If I were the only girl' for a film in 1929. 'I danced with a man etc' was released in 1927 – I thought this would be an excellent joke, given how Lady Rose did dance with him, and since Carson gets to dance with most of the household at Christmas parties, he's probably danced with her.

Someone to watch over me was sung by Gertrude Lawrence in 1926, whilst Someday I'll find you was included in Noel Coward's Private Lives in 1930, which she starred in. Both of these have excellent versions sung by Julie Andrews for the film Star. The last song was All the things you are, released in 1938. Other songs they danced to might well have been The way you look tonight, Always and You were meant for me. I love the great American songbook of the 20s and 30s.

Happy birthday once again to Brenna-Louise! A review or two would set me up forever.