A/N: Agh, I had to return to the 'Baby Fever' Universe after all, because it's so terribly fluffy and silly and just makes me happy to write (Edit: Spoiler Warning for S4)

It was once supposed to be an epilogue to 'Baby Fever', but with the new series and all the feels about last episode this little piece has turned into my S4 AU corner where Matthew is happy with Mary, their little family and their future at Downton in the 20s. *sigh*

Well, it's nothing fancy, but I really hope you enjoy :)

Something to give, something to share

Isobel smiled with satisfaction. Having spent the past hour framing this new photograph of her grandson, she placed it next to his parents' wedding picture on the mantle piece. Pride filled her heart at the sight of the chubby baby boy, who looked so much like his Papa when he was only an infant...

Big blue eyes, a fluff of blonde hair and a jolly round face.

That same face suddenly appeared in the window, when Isobel turned to resume her place at the desk. "Matthew!" she exclaimed and hurried to open the front door for him. It was cold outside.

"What a lovely, lovely surprise." Isobel trilled as she leaned up to kiss her son's frozen cheek. "Am I disturbing you?" he asked and peeled himself out of his overcoat. "Of course not. What a notion!" She took his hat and brief case and for an instant it almost felt like years ago, when he came home from work in Ripon every evening.

"I was on my way back from work...and I thought I'd look in on you." Matthew shrugged, smiling innocently at his mother. Isobel noticed that he seemed tired and somewhat twitchy. Stressed, would probably be the right word.

"Come in, I'll ask for tea." she ushered him into the drawing room. Since Ethel's leaving, she had only bothered to keep a girl from the village to do the odd thing about the house and prepare simple meals, nothing fancy.

Matthew stood by the fireplace, rubbing his hands. His keen eye had immediately noticed the new photograph his mother had propped up. He smiled broadly as Isobel came to join him. "Well, have you ever seen such a handsome little boy." she asked, beaming proudly at the father. "Reggie must have grown about half a foot since that picture was taken." For some reason, Matthew grew nervous. Her last words had made him jumpy...

The tea was served and they settled comfortably in their chairs. Again, it felt very much like in the olden days.

"Tell me." Isobel said calmly. Matthew, who had been idly blowing into his hot tea cup, stared at his mother as if he had just been caught with his hand in the biscuit jar. "Tell me what's bothering you." she repeated and there was a hint of motherly sterness to her voice. The last time she had seen anyone fidget like this in her drawing room had been months ago when Mary came for a visit.

Matthew sighed heavily and put the steaming cup down onto a side table. He rubbed his brow.

"It's...um...Reggie." he said reluctantly. Isobel sat up straighter. "What's wrong with him?"

"No...nothing! He's fine. Perfectly so. Mary's seeing to that, trust me." Matthew chuckled fondly, momentarily caught up in some random memory of his wife. Isobel waited. "It's not so much about him...it's about...Reggie...the name." he finally pressed out. Unsurprisingly, his mother still seemed bewildered.

"The christening will be soon...and Cousin Violet is still adamant that we change the name to 'Henry' instead. We did not want to tell you, because you were so pleased that we...that Mary called him after Father..." Matthew leaned back and stretched his legs out. Now that he'd come out with the truth, he seemed to feel more comfortable in his skin.

"But Matthew...it's not my decision how you and Mary name your child." she shook her head and frowned. "Nor should it be Cousin Violet's for that matter!" He nodded. "I agree. But you know..." he shrugged and there was no need to elaborate. Mary's grandmother was a formidable woman, no doubt, strong and sensible in many ways, but quite unreasonably stubborn in others. "Mary had to quarrel with her all day yesterday."

Isobel continued to shake her head in disbelief. "Well, rest assured that I won't be peeved if you suddenly decide to change the name" she said decidedly. Matthew gave her a wan smile. "Thank you."

"But you're otherwise happy, aren't you?" the concerned mother asked, still not quite satisfied with her son's demeanour. He did not exactly seem unhappy...but there was definitely something else on his mind.

"I'm deliriously happy with Mary and Re...the baby." Matthew assured her, taking up his tea again. The mild blush and the crooked smile forming on his lips convinced Isobel as much. "But if I were to be perfectly honest...I rather envy you living in this small house."

Isobel chuckled quietly into her tea, not the least because he would term Crawley House 'small'. She was quite aware that Matthew did not relish living at the Abbey, nor did he enjoy the pomp and splendour of its aristocratic lifestyle...

But he loved Mary. And wherever she was, he would be.

"I thought you might have got used to it after almost two years." she wondered, handing him a plate of the cake he was so partial to. Matthew tucked in gratefully and chewed for a while, deliberating.

"It's not really the house...or the lifestyle. I got used to that. But..." he flushed the cake down with some tea. "This might sound awful...but sometimes, I'd like to have my family to myself."

Mother and son exchanged a look of silent empathy. They had lived together on their own for such a long time and Matthew had liked the quiet life, the simple intimacy of a two-some or three-some, now that the baby was there. He was not a man of big crowds and the chaos of a large extended family life confused him.

"I understand, Matthew." Isobel nodded. "What does Mary say?"

He shifted in his seat. "Nothing...I wouldn't tell her. She's very happy where we are and I won't spoil that." Matthew folded his hands in his lap. "I'll never take Mary away from Downton. Even if I'd hoped we would not have to be so close to it all before...well..." Matthew tended to avoid the topic of his taking over from Robert one day. It was not something he actively looked forward to. "But now that we own half of Downton...we must take responsibility." he decided.

Isobel stood to pour them fresh cups. "Of course you do. But you don't have to involve yourself in all other troubles going on at house. Remember, you always told me not to meddle into the family affairs and the running of Downton." she added with a triumphant smile as she handed him the saucer.

Matthew blinked, then began to laugh. "I suppose, I did." He smiled ruefully at his mother. "To be honest, I think Mary would be a much better Earl of Grantham. She enjoys taking charge in all things Downton." Something else occured to him then. "Maybe that's why part of me would like to spirit her away from the big house. Downton has always been her great love. It's my worst rival." He joked, grinning at his mother over the rim of the tea cup.

Isobel snorted. "I'm sure you and the baby mean a great dealmore to Mary than Downton." she said. "Though I would never have believed it years ago." Mary had indeed surprised her time and again on that score.

Matthew appeared quite happy again. "That's why it does not matter that I might prefer a more...private life...as long as we can be together." he mused, brushing random cake crumbs off his vest and trousers. Isobel could tell he was getting impatient to return home to this 'togetherness' he craved.

"There now." she said cheerfully. "But Matthew, if you ever feel like having some time alone with your family...this house will always be your home. I'd be happy to leave it to you and Mary for a few weeks and go to Manchester for a visit. I don't mind at all."

Matthew came over to take her hands to help her up from the chair. "Thank you, Mother." he muttered and bowed to kiss her on the cheek. "Thank you very much." She pressed his hand as he looked back to the mantle piece where the pictures stood. "You should come and see Reg...err..the baby again this week, whenever you have time."

She walked him into the hall. "Oh, I'd love to. I just don't want Mary to think that I'm trying to interfere." Matthew gave her a queer look whilst pulling on his coat. "In between the horrible nannies, Cora and Violet, she wouldn't even notice your interfering. Trust me, you're always welcome. Mary said so herself."

Isobel handed him the briefcase. "I'm glad to hear it." Her hands almost went out to fasten the scarf properly around his neck, but she checked herself in time. All this baby talk made her nostalgic. "So...what will be our darling boy's name then?" it occured to her.

Matthew grimaced. "Well, Cousin Violet insists that it be 'Henry'...but Mary told her that if it can't be 'Reginald', it won't be 'Henry' either...so none of his grandfather's names. Needless to say, Cousin Violet wasn't happy." Isobel bit her tongue. She could vividly imagine it.

"Poor Mary was probably arguing her case all day...but you know how fierce she can be." Matthew said with unabashed admiration. Isobel laughed indulgently. "I know, Matthew." She opened the door for him. "Give her my best...and take good care of my only grandchild. I'll come and see him next week. I assume he'll have a name by then..."

Grabbing his bicycle from where he had parked it against the house, Matthew threw a crooked smile back over his shoulder. "Here's hoping." Isobel watched him mount the old rusty thing, shaking her grey head. "Explain to me again why you won't take the car?" she wondered.

"I much prefer the bicycle." Matthew shrugged and lifted his hat to greet Isobel goodbye. She waved at the door and her eyes lingered for a while on the figure of her son until he had disappeared over the hill towards the Abbey.

He truly was a man of simple pleasures and would always remain so.

"I think you will find Lady Mary and Master...err...the baby are in the library." Carson informed Matthew, already anticipating the young father's request when he let him into the house. "Thank you, Carson." he beamed at the old butler who accepted his coat and hat.

Very carefully, Matthew set one foot before the other, lest his shoes should make a creaking noise and he would be bereaved of this small pleasure he indulged in almost every day after work...to secretly watch his wife swaying on the spot with the baby on her arm, laughing and cooing in a way that she would never do when anyone else was around.

The boy's eyes were wide open and fixed on his beautiful Mama. He gargled and laughed happily, his pudgy little arms reaching out for her, one tiny hand grasping her index finger firmly.

Matthew understood his son only too well in that moment. They were both so very lucky to have her. So very lucky. "Hello there." he announced himself half-loud, the need to be close to them bigger now than his desire to peep. Mary's face lightened up some more when she discovered him.

"Papa's here." she whispered to their son, who instantly turned to see what had caught her attention. Bright blue eyes met with their elder twins and a string of undecipherable brabble rose up in the little boy as he recognized his father, his fat little arms stretching out for him now.

Matthew let Mary place the struggling baby in his arms, but not without stealing a kiss from his wife first. "Good afternoon, my darling." he whispered. "How was your day?" she greeted him in turn, her hand stroking over his arm. "Fine...I've missed you two." he said, lifting the gibbering child up in the air over his head.

The baby hooted with laughter.

"There...he missed his Papa, too." Mary remarked as she took the gargling bundle back. "And you...didn't you miss me?" Matthew breathed in her ear as he put his arms around her from behind, but was promptly forced to halt his loving pursuits when Nanny West came waltzing into the library. He sighed and steped away from his family.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley. I'll take the little prince down for his nap." the sturdy nurse simpered as she took the boy out of his mother's embrace. Matthew noticed a tiny frown forming on Mary's brow as she let go of her offspring. Truth be told, he wasn't too convinced of the new nanny either...

"Come, sit and tell me about your day." he requested and took Mary's hand to pull her down onto the plush red seats. "Do your really want to know?" she asked in a heavy tone that suggested it had been as bad as in the past few days. Cousin Violet had badgered her relentlessly to give in and name the child either 'Henry', 'Robert' or 'Bartholomew'. To nobody's surprise, Lord Grantham had been quite in favour of blessing the boy with his own name, since his favouritism for his only grandson and second heir knew absolutely no bounds.

"I've actually managed a compromise with Granny, believe it or not." Mary sighed as she leaned back into the cushions. Matthew mirrored her actions and leaned in closer. "Oh?"

"Yes. We can name him ourselves, but we must keep the name 'in the family'" Before Matthew could ask what this meant exactly, and moreover point out that 'Reginald' would have been very much 'in the family', unless he himself and his father did not count as such anymore, they heard the dressing gong.

"You've spent all afternoon at your mother's." Mary noticed. "You didn't tell her, did you?" They had agreed not to disappoint Isobel until they had come to a final decision about the name. "I did." Matthew said. "And she doesn't mind about these things. She understands. I'm lucky in that respect."

Mary pulled a face, secretly wondering what it must be like to have relatives who don't disapprove of your every move. "Why, you're quite a spoilt brat. " she teased and was compelled to pay for her cheek with a thorough kiss. "Let's go and dress for dinner." She slapped Matthew's hand away that had travelled up her leg, clearly offering his assistance for the process of changing clothes.

He followed closely behind her when she fled to the hallway, laughing at his eagerness. Mary had grabbed something from her father's desk along the way and he eyed it with curiosity. "What's this, darling?"

Mary's mirth ebbed away and she hid the pile of papers behind her back. "Work for us." she confessed. Matthew's brows shot up to his hairline. "Ah." He did not understand, but she did not seem to want to elaborate. "You'll see later tonight." she promised.

Still confused, Matthew looked on as she gracefully bounced up the stairs, affording him a tantalizing glimps of exposed ankles and seductively swaying hips. If there was any activity he'd fiercely hoped to be doing with her tonight, it certainly did not involve any paperwork...

When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Tom pulled his brother-in-law aside. All evening, Matthew had had the distinct feeling that Tom wished to discuss something with him, albeit not in front of Robert.

They were offered drinks by Barrow and slowly wandered towards the row of windows. "I've been thinking about what you said the other day..." Tom began. "...about letting Mary be more involved in the running of the estate." In a tiny fit of panic, Matthew shushed him and they both cast a wary glance over to where Robert stood, holding his belly as he laughed about something Cora had said.

A while ago, Matthew had told Tom that, as the agent, he ought to consider Mary as much the owner of Downton as he himself was. At least concerning that half of Downton which he legally owned. It was theirs, his and Mary's together.

Exactly so Matthew had officially laid it down in his last will and testament after their exploits to Duneagle.

Mary would be his sole heiress. Their son would of course own everything one day, along with the title, but Matthew would be damned if he let Robert or anyone else overrun Mary's right to be mistress over her husband's possessions.

"I still don't know how to tell him." Matthew mumbled into his liquor, nodding towards his father-in-law. Tom shared his apprehension. It had been difficult enough trying to convince Robert to go off on a more modern path with the running of the estate. "Be that as it may, I think Mary ought to be included, so you have my full support. For what it's worth." said Tom with a more positive air. In reality, his vote counted very little in the Grantham's books, but he was more than willing to help Matthew fight it ought, if needs me.

Matthew thanked him. He felt guilty for roping Tom in and for keeping all this a secret from Robert...and Mary herself for now. But it did not feel like the right time to incend another family feud, not until his son had been christened at least.

Who knew, in the end they'd have to call him 'Bartholomew' after all.

"What were you and Tom conspiring over?" Mary asked nonchalantly whilst Anna braided her hair. In the reading chair next to the window sat her husband, clad in his dressing gown. He watched with a mixture of amusement and interest how his wife was being 'coddled' for the night by her lady's maid.

Once Anna was out of the room, Matthew held out his hand, a wordless sign for Mary to take her seat in his lap. They had spent many a night curled up together in this comfortable chair, either talking or reading together. Mary knew that Matthew loved to read to her, poetry, prose or Shakespeare, he never tired of it.

Tonight, however, she handed him something different to pore over.

"What is this now?" he asked as he pulled her close to him. Mary shuffled around in his lap, accidentally on purpose pulling a groan out of him, for which he tickled her sides mercilessly as retribution. "Alright. Concentration now." she chided, still laughing and kissing his cheek. Matthew turned his head aiming for her lips, but she pulled away, making it clear she was quite serious about doing 'work'.

"Look, this is the Grantham family tree...you've seen it before, I presume." Mary waved the paper in front of his face. Matthew stilled her hand to have a proper look. "Ahh...I see where this is going. Your grandmother wants us to pick a name from this?"

Mary hoped that he would not be put out. It was the best she could wrangle out of Granny. "At least we get to choose...even if the choice is limited." This pretty much summed up her own life, Mary thought. You get to chose a husband from a limited pool your family decides upon. And how lucky she had been that this pool had included her darling Matthew. "What do you think?"

He merely smiled at her and leaned in for another kiss. "My clever, clever girl." Matthew whispered and she sighed with relief. "I think it's a marvellous idea." He nuzzled her cheek, but before they could get carried away once more, Mary cleared her throat.

"Good. Well, I've had a look at it this afternoon and all I've come up with are the names I will not have for my child...I mean, hell would freeze before I named him 'Godfrey'" she sniffed, jabbing a finger at the tree branch of 'Godfrey Crawley', brother to the first Earl of Grantham.

Matthew laughed and assured her earnestly that there was no danger of that. "Let's see...Edmund...James… Richard? Not Richard!" he burst out. "Not resentful, are we?" Mary chuckled, kissing his ear. "Is there no William...I'd like William." Matthew mumbled, ignoring her jibe. Mary fumbled with the sash of her gown. She knew why he thought of the name. Unfortunately, there was no William Crawley...

"There is a succession of Fitzwilliams in the eighteenth century..." she pointed out. But then Granny would insist on calling him 'Fitz' and that would never do. "Hmm..." Matthew shook his head. Another name had caught his interest. "Rudolph Frederick Crawley...we could call him Rudy." He looked up at Mary who crinkled her nose in disgust.

"No." she said simply. He knew better than to argue.

"Barnaby Crawley...and his sons Harold, Percival and Theodore." Matthew continued to read out. "Well, I'm sure that fellow had no worries about the male line of succession." Though none of the names appealed to Mary.

"Anthony..." she mumbled, her finger gliding over the branch of great uncle Anthony Crawley, brother of the fourth Earl. "Edith won't thank us for that, I'm afraid." Matthew reasoned, rather confused as to why Mary would favour Sir Anthony's name...

"Not because of Strallan!" she explained, "I once had a friend called Tony."

Her husband's head snapped up and she could feel his eyes burning into her. "Oh really? That's the first I hear of him?" he pointed out and Mary had a hard time keeping a straight face, so she turned back to the 'family tree'. "Edmund isn't too horrid, I suppose..." She tapped a finger to the paper.

Matthew, however, was not to be distracted so easily. "An old friend...with you that means he was an old beau." He muttered, one eyebrow raised. Mary could not contain her amusement any longer, not when he sounded so ridiculously miffed. "Oh Matthew..." she laughed. "I knew him when we were children."

He shot her another dubious glance, though the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards. "Well, he must have left quite an impression if you..." The rest of his sentence was swallowed up by Mary's kiss. When their lips parted for air, Matthew sighed happily and she was sure that he had already forgot what had irked him before. Their noses bumped together. "Little minx." he whispered accusingly and nuzzled her cheek when she turned back to peruse the papers in her lap. Their task was becoming a real burden...

It would be so much nicer to just crawl into bed with Matthew right now. Infinitely nicer.

"Now let's see...maybe we're being too picky." Matthew sighed. "Alright...no Godfrey, no Richard..." he insisted. "And no Rudolph!" Mary added sternly. "No Anthony either." came his equally stern reply. So far they only knew which names not to choose...

Matthew rubbed his tired eyes. He'd been reading case briefs all morning, and the miniscule calligraphy on the family tree was killing him. Suddenly an idea popped into his mind "Mary, darling?" he nudged her. She had been half dozing against his shoulder. "Huh?"

"What about George Crawley?" he said quietly. "That was my great, great grandfather." Mary had to strain her ears to hear him properly. "He's the one who was related to your family..." That got her attention. She squinted to see where the name was clearly written out.

George Nicholas Crawley, Esq. Younger son of Edmund Albert Crawley, Third Earl of Grantham.

Mary blinked in the dim light. "George..." she repeated softly. "I like George." Mama would surely call him 'Georgie', and Granny couldn't say anything because the Name was most definitely 'in the family'. What was more, if it wasn't for this obscure relative, Matthew would never have come to Downton...

"I like it, too." he whispered into her hair. "Mary, Matthew and George." And so it was settled.

The papers toppled to the carpet when Matthew stood without warning and carried his wife to the bed that had beckoned them all evening, all day in fact. "Mind your back!" she chided, though he had already dropped her unceremoniously onto the mattress. "Not to worry, my love." he assured, his cheeks flush with joy.

Mary laughed as she watched him struggle with the knot on his dressing gown. Every single time when he tried to get it off in haste, the knot would get stuck. "Come here." She pulled him down to her on the bed and rolled them over. "My hard working husband..." Matthew grinned broadly as he wallowed in the warmth of their bed and the sweet seductions of his darling wife.

She loosened the knot on his gown with ease and kissed a languid trail around his neck. Matthew was practically purring. "Oh darling..." he whimpered when Mary climbed all the way onto his body. He licked his lips, and she knew there were a million tender words, a myriad of loving expressions on the tip of his tongue...

"I love you." she beat him to it. His bright blue eyes glazed over and he croaked out the same simple phrase to her. No more conversation was needed. Some time later, they fell asleep together in a tangle of limbs, utterly exhausted from their day's work but more than satisfied with what they had accomplished...

George dozed happily in the nursery, unaware of his new appellation.