Hi guys (: I have come to the understanding that I need to write more fanfictions, so I opened a prompt thing on my tumblr – go there and tell me to write, or you can always yell it at me here…
This one is for the lovely and my absolute writer crush lavenderandhay. Reviews and favourites are welcome, any kind of feedback, really! Peace out!
Downton was quite simple for Isobel's eyes to appreciate. It had nothing special, yet it had this unique aura around it, perhaps out of that feeling of the unknown that Isobel secretly desired so much. Although still reluctant towards his son having to deal with all those issues at the abbey that could slow him down, she kept her head high and a smile on her lips. Perhaps she was to live the time of her life in that small town.
She barely knew anyone in that town, so going around to meet the surroundings filled her first weeks quite quickly… yet, she didn't grow tired of it. It was almost a complete opposite of Manchester, yet, people were no different. Most she met were quite polite and warm to her, always answering her delicate questions, about where was this, where was that. She had the nicest cup of tea back at her home that afternoon, knowing that later she'd join Dr. Clarkson in his late afternoon chores at the local hospital.
There was always something about him that made Isobel feel slightly comfortable. Throughout her years, doctors were her field of "expertise", so to say, she had grown up in their nest and even though she wasn't one herself being a nurse meant understanding perfectly their behavior. Her husband, Reginald Crawley, as with the God above now, and she lacked that scientific yet warming and pleasing company of a man in the same situation. Not that she was desperate for a man's touch, but she'd like to befriend one, even if only to share some wisdom and ideas. Richard Clarkson was a little bit tough and stubborn but so far he couldn't fight back properly to her arguments and haste, so he was the perfect "target". And he was no bad sight, no.
Leaving her house, she walked on her own towards the hospital. It was not the closest building yet the walk was not tiring or long, and she was actually excited to do it. Doing it frequently would mean she'd get busy doing something she loved – helping, healing. It boiled the blood on her blood, made her many years younger.
As she entered it, she made her way past the not-so-uplifting rooms in the building. People were dying, people were striving for breaths of air in those rooms she passed by. She stopped by one where a man had a broken arm and leg and was laying on a bed with what seemed to be his partner by his side, smiling softly, whispering that things would be alright. She was to enter the same room the very moment she heard her name being called in the distance of that corridor.
"Mrs. Crawley?" The manly, Scottish voice called out for her. It made her lips curl, knowing perfectly it was the doctor. "You came early. And quite eagerly, I must say."
Isobel turned to Richard Clarkson, taking a step forward to him. "You are correct, Dr. Clarkson. I came here to know in which schedule you wish me to work upon, starting next week."
"If only half the nurses we have were as eager to partake as you are, Mrs. Crawley… Follow me." Richard then gestured her to follow him to his office, smiling beneath his moustache and Scottish eyes.
Inside his office, Isobel followed his intentions of making her sitting in the chair in the front of his desk, asking her politely if she wanted a cup of tea.
"No, thank you, Dr. Clarkson." She answered calmly. "I had one just before leaving my house. Now, about the schedule…"
They discussed their matters without arguing with each other's choices, like they were in perfect synchrony. Isobel chuckled at some witty remarks of his, but his smile made her feel quite nervous, like it moved something on her. She kept blushing slowly as she kept talking to him.
"…I must say, Mrs. Crawley- or should I say, Nurse Crawley…" Richard leaned forward, with his elbows supporting his weight on the table. "…you'll be the perfect breath of fresh air this hospital and its resident workers need. With your potential to experimentalism and amount of experience, you might make some good amongst our lot. Welcome abroad."
He lent her his hand to shake.
"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson. I will most certainly do my best for this house." Isobel took his hand and shook it firmly, but she wasn't waiting for him to lead her hand to his lips, where he planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. "…Dr-Dr. Clarkson…"
Richard chuckled. "I probably shouldn't have done that." He gently let go of her hand. "I just couldn't help myself. It is an honour to work beside a woman of your wisdom and culture."
She felt her face getting more red with those words. "…You're flirting."
"Oh, but I am not – only stating the truth, Mrs. Crawley. You were amazing with the adrenaline case back then. I was shocked. I was surprised. You have most certainly taken my breath away when I saw it happen so perfectly. Take this as my personal thanks."
Isobel flashed a wide, but nervous smile, as her eyes slowly laid on the desk rather than to what was in front of her. "…Then I must say that you have the most pleasing smile I've seen so far in this town. And most certainly that this is not any kind of flirting, only truth being told sincerely."
He went around the desk as he sighed, standing near her. "I wouldn't doubt your word."
Isobel turned her face to him, and quite frankly, he was standing a bit too close to her. And she looked through the window behind him and she released a heartfelt sigh, she had to leave.
"Well, I guess I'll see you Monday, first thing in the morning." She said, smirking innocently at him.
He took a step forward to her, took her hand and leaned forward to brush his lips on hers. She barely moved since he took her hand, like she was expecting this all along. The kiss was small and barely tasted like anything, but it felt like it was the opening of a new character.
"Goodbye, Dr. Clarkson."
He replied back with her name by the end of the sentence, and she walked away, with her hand on her chest, trying to ease its beating. She had lost her mind, but her heart felt young again.