Author's note: Takes place several months after season 3 finale. Enjoy!


I walk down the street, hopping out of the way of a car. I haven't seen Mr. Carson this morning. Mrs. Hughes for only a moment. Not even nasty O'Brien. I truly am free. No stares or glares or comments about what I do with my day. I could tell them a thing or two to do with their day off but I'd like to keep me job. Always judgmental. Carson especially. Though why should I even notice. I've been judged since I got hair on my chin.

I step out of the way of a woman and a man with a baby. A family. I give the lady a smile and she gives one back. The baby has a blue bonnet. He's all smiles and giggles now. But if he turns out like me he won't be laughing long. Though that's all one can do like me isn't it. Laugh at others to mask my carved insides, cold bitter vines wrapping around me lungs like a python. If it keeps up forever I don't think I'll have the lung to laugh any longer. Alone with empty pockets I'll be. No one to think like me. Feel like me.

I'm too distracted by my own pity that I don't notice the man before me until I bump into him.

"Excuse me sir." I shoot out, looking to meet his face. His eyes meet mine before tipping his hat. I instantly feel my mood shift at the tone in his voice and look of his cheekbones.

"It was my fault." He says. This man is young. Near my years if not just. His eyes are kind. I give him a smile before stepping out of his way.

"Surely it was mine. Have a good day." He returns the nod before continuing on his way, looking determined to get wherever he is going. I notice any man worth a face in village but his I don't recognize.

Thirsty for a pint I start my day at the Hogs Brew. Not many inside as it is before lunch and a work day for most. I take a seat in my regular spot. By the window. Overlooking the river. Having someone serve me makes me as relaxed as I am made uneasy. It feels right as it does wrong but makes me smile. I deserve a meal to be handed to me every now and then. When I am away from the house, I often feel my mind shift. People here don't know who I am. Don't know much anyway. They don't see everything I've done or had done to me. They just see me, and sometimes that person feels like a stranger.

A woman walks over and asks for my order. I get a pint and a small slice of cake. A delicacy in the house since it always seems to be eaten entirely by the upstairs, or Jimmy and Alfred if there are leftovers. The woman comes back, her dress drifts as she shifts her weight.

"Is that all you would like?"

"Yes, mam." I nod.

"I know your face. You come here often." She gives me a funny smile. "Take this one the house." She sets a plate down before me, one piece of rich dark cake atop the glass and another wrapped up to take home. I don't often get this sort of offer, so I take it.

"Thank you misses." I give her a smile and she gives me one that I know means she fancies me. Isn't the first time I've gotten that look from a misses. They're always easier to get then from a man. She leaves and I get to my pint and my plate. I forget how much I like cake. Whiskey cake. I rest my pocket watch on the table, checking in my time. I've got plenty of it.

A few minutes pass before voices catch my attention behind the near wall. They aren't sound proof. There's a man shouting and a quiet voice answering. I lean back in my chair. They don't think they I can see them but I can. A free show with my cake. I listen, hoping the argument gets worse or I hear something worth all the racket when I catch a glimpse of a man's face. The chap I ran into earlier. With the face. I'd know it and I do know it.

"You're late!" Said a deep man's voice.

"I'm sorry."

"I hire you from nothing. And this is how you repay me. Being an hour late, I have been serving tables. Me!"

"It won't happen again." For whatever reason, they are nearly out of the back room now and are just behind the bar. Perhaps the fella is backing away from the fat man. Lucky for them I'm the only man in here except someone viciously writing up a letter who looks like he wouldn't notice a tree falling.

"Damn right it will not." The fella is aware they are in the eyes of the public now even if the fat man, who should be, isn't. The fella glances at me and I don't look away. I know a look of fear in a man's eyes. And he's got it. This has gone from entertainment to getting on me nerves. It isn't right. I can see the red of the man's cheeks, the sweat above his grayed brow. "If this is your last day, it certainly won't." He snaps like a tree branch. It is in the tone of the fella's voice that makes me rise to my feet. Desperation.

"Please. I need this." Without realizing I've done it I'm at the bar, calling out to the fella's attacker.

"Excuse me." Two sets of eyes are on me in a flash. "A bit hard to not overhear this... discussion. And thought I'd say it's my fault he was late." The fella's eyes flick to me with a thundering look.

"How do you mean, Mr-"

"Barrow, sir." I nod to him and put on my face. The one people trust. "I was coming along in me own head not seeing where I put my feet and ran into him on the street. He would've been on time I'm sure if he hadn't had to clean up from the fall. Just trying to be responsible that's all." I stretch the truth but that's just the way I talk. I watch the fat man look the fella over, before looking to me. If he's got a brain he knows I work for the Granthams. And by the look on his face and stiffening of his weak spine I think he might.

"I see."

"Just a miss communication of men, as Lord Grantham would say." I throw his name in to spear his sharp tongue. The fat man nods and takes a step back from the fella.

"Good day to you, Mr. Barrow." He lowers his voice, but I've got good hearing even with me back turned. "You're lucky to have run into him." His voice is a snake but I let the him go and return to my seat. A few minutes pass as I sip my pint, look over the paper and work on my piece of cake. All the while glancing at the fella whom has taken over the cake woman's job as a server. Getting the order from a man who has just entered. By the fella's smile and voice and the joking about the weather you'd never know he was snaked in a corner a moment ago. But that's the trick isn't it. Though I find taking the venom from your python and throwing it at others is better solution. I look away when he goes to the back room.

I watch him as I finish my pint and cake. His hair is wavy. His cheekbones and jaw a good look. As is his build. Eyes narrowed out with a story in them. He sees me looking and I give him a smile. He takes a man's plate to the back before coming around and heading for me.

"Are you done, sir?" The fella asks. I hand him my dishes and nod.

"Yes. It was delicious." He is quiet before lowering his voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Barrow. You didn't have to do that." I nod with a smile.

"Of course. I don't tolerate a man being talked down to."

"I appreciate that. Though it still was my fault." He moves to leave but I touch his arm. He looks to it then my face.

"No, it wasn't. Mr-"

"Call me, Evan."

"Evan." I say. "Hope to see you again." I say it though I don't know why because a man with his face is surely for the ladies. My luck never brings in big fish always empty hooks. He smiles at me and it lingers with me till he walks away. I take my cake and leave.

It's only noon. I have a whole day to myself. I don't want to spend much money so I peruse the shops. Admire the suits. But they only make me think of work. Of all the time they have shunned or shamed me. Sure, they didn't like some of what I've done or said, but many times it's because of what I am. Even when I leave the house I feel like I'm still there. Mind jumping on what to do next before I can go out for a smoke. That's what I decide to do.

I pull out a cigarette. Take a seat on a bench overlooking the river, watch the smoke drift into the wind and disappear. I think of the fella. I wonder what he's done or not done to need a serving job so desperately. Wonder if he is married. Wonder where he comes from. And my mind can't stop coming up with different scenarios of who he is. For something about him makes me wonder.

I find myself glancing back to the Hog's Brew, it's in sight. Wondering when the fella might get off duty. A day of serving. I know what that's like. But lucky for him, a lot of folks who come in are his class. It's about half way through the afternoon when I see the back door open, a tall thin man with dark hair. I know by the color of the vest it is the fella. He walks out, the sunlight bounces off the watch he is looking at. I want to walk over but he'd wonder why I'd do it. And I haven't got a reason. So I pick up my things off the bench and head back towards Downton. But I make sure to walk on the side of the street of the fella.

When I pass him I look over, he notices me just before going inside and nods. I give him a nodded smile and go on.


"Put the apples in the pie not the muffins, what do you think this is horse supper?" Mrs. Patmore shouts from the kitchen. I hear it as I walk in. Then I feel O'Brien's eyes on me before I notice her and I could swear, Mr. Carson's breath on my neck before I even see him. He passes me in the hall and gives me a look. He thinks he's hiding his jealousy. But he isn't. The man won't take a day off but I swear he does it just so he can complain about never having his own time. Bloody oaf. The cook staff are all buzzing about, luncheon is near. I see Jimmy and Alfred spending their spare minutes before serving chatting in the corner. Jimmy's hair is swept like a golden pillow. But after seeing the fella today, his face doesn't hold up. But then again, it wasn't just the fella's face. But something else in him that makes me think this.

"Are you just going to stare at him until he morphs into a butterfly?" Carson growls as he passes. I must have been standing there longer then I thought. And though me eyes are on Jimmy my head wasn't.

"He already has Mr. Carson. But I don't think you'll have your turn." I smirk, knowing its so close to a meal that he won't spare the moment to turn about and scorn me.

"Excuse me Thomas," Daisy squibbles out as she dashes past with a smoking dish. Funny. She was once like that lady today, thinking she could get in on my fancy. Flattering but as uninteresting as what it looks like they're serving for supper. I know it will rile up Carson, and I'm not doing anything else at the moment, so I take a seat at the table and watch them scurry about like rats with fire beneath their feet.

"Careful Jimmy, you might strain yourself." I say with a smile, watching the footman toss his glove about while waiting for his tray to be ready. He smiles back.

"Same to you." I lean back in my chair.

"Here boys, don't touch the bottom of the tray, or you might loose a finger. It's right off the stove!" Ivy rushes out. Alfred and Jimmy exchange a worried look. I chuckle at the way Jimmy's upper lip curls as they carefully head off with their trays.

"Working hard I see." I feel my spine curl up at the voice. Sarah O'Brien.

"Harder than you." I saw without looking back. I hear her heels click off like a loose pony.

Trying to make them jealous gets old so I go to my room. Put my cake away and hang up me jacket. It's funny how tired I am even on me day off. You work so bloody hard and don't realize you're working on an aching body till you lie down for bed and go out like a broken light. I lay down and fall asleep.


It's late afternoon, evening? The sun is going down quick. Giving the window the soft glow of a wilting fire. I hear a bustle downstairs. Sounds like a hen house.

I find Anna at the table, she's always been kind. She even asks about my day. I don't tell her about the fella. It's the quiet calm before dinner. I'm considering leaving to find my own dinner elsewhere, forgetting the expenses, since this is my only chance to eat something other than Mrs. Patmore's white mashed anything. When I hear the sound of a disruption. Not clattering kind of disruption but the sound of two people's voices. Tones telling me of one. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. But when I hear my name I peak my head about the corner, the two look at me strange.

"I've been gone all day. Couldn't have been me." I say.

"Well that's just it." Carson says as he approaches. "It seems you left a belonging in town. A pocket watch. A man has brought it back for you. But that man is-"

Mrs. Hughes cuts his words. "Not a money man." Carson grunts.

"The matter is he in this house. In Robert's library. With Robert. It is almost dinner. Almost time to ring the gong. And yet there is a man upstairs who doesn't belong. And Robert asked for you to join them as to retrieve said belonging."

"You could'a just said there's a man with me watch upstairs." I wonder if it could be the fella. But perhaps it is the fat man trying to win me over. The Granthams over in case I talked of his unruly treatment of the fella. I step forward but his fat finger stops me.

"Take it. And leave. I don't know why this is happening but I don't like it." This only makes me want to ask whoever it is to stay as long as they like. Anna comes downstairs and has a funny smile, I step out of her way and make to leave when I hear her giggle with Daisy.

"He's a handsome one he is."

"You always get the excitement Anna!" Handsome... I quicken my step and go upstairs, smoothing my vest and head for the library.

"Ah Thomas." Robert says, rising from the sofa. I see a man with rich dark hair sitting in front of him. Back to me. "This kind gentlemen has come all this way to return your pocket watch." I'm surprised at the start my heart gets when I meet the eyes of the fella. I smile easily and he rises to meet me. Handing the watch over. The metal is warm from the heat of his palm.

"As an Under Butler, I know keeping time is important." He says. Robert gestures to him with one hand.

"Before the war he worked for the Townsends. And now that you say it, you do look awful familiar." The fella nods at Robert and smiles, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Footman."

"Great work a Footman is. Used to be one myself." I say smiling. Robert looks between us. I feel he is looking longer at me than needs be. Why, I haven't done nothing. Or am I smiling too much.

The deep bellow of the dressing gong rings through the house.

"My, looks like Carson wants an early start tonight," Robert says, looking at his watch. Early start my foot. He's doing it on purpose to shoo the fella out. "I do apologize. Would you like our Chauffeur to take you back into town? I'm certain he won't mind." The fella passes off the offer with his hand.

"I appreciate that very much. But a walk could do me good."

"Very well then. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Luke."

"As to you Lord Grantham. If you see any of the Townsends be sure to give them my best."

"It is a shame they couldn't take you back after the war. If you ever need a place of employment, please let me know. I would be happy to work something out when they cannot."

"That's very kind of you." He says locking eyes with Robert. As he moves to show Evan to the door I hurry over.

"I'll walk show him out my Lord." I say. Robert looks between us and nods.

"Thank you Thomas, I best be dressing anyway." The fella nods to him and we head silently to the door. I hear Bates' cane tap the floor. I look back and he is watching. Then follows Robert upstairs. I close the door and we step onto the driveway.

"Thank you for coming all this way just for a silly watch, Evan is it?"

"Yes, and please. It's not silly. That's a very nice make you have there." I rock on my toes and finger the thing in my pocket. The touch so familiar.

"It was my father's. He was a clockmaker."

"Did he make it?" I nod. "What a wonderful thing to have."

"Yes." It is the only thing he ever gave to me. We stand quiet.

"Well I best let you be on your way, Evan." He looks out to the lawn. At the same time I open my mouth to thank him again he starts to speak. We both smile and I tell him to speak.

"I'm certain you have better things to do with your day off, but you are welcome to join me for the evening. If you like. Seems we have a bit in common." I suppose he is right. Being ex footman and veterans and all. Though that's all we have in common I'm sure. He brought the watch back by hand out of kindness. Maybe even to get on Robert's good side in case a job does arise, I would do that. But spending the evening with another soldier can't hurt.

The setting sun giving a glow to his brown eyes. "I would like that. No one here understands what it was like out there." Evan nods.

"Only people like you can understand." He pats my shoulder and gestures to the road. I feel excited. And though I know this is born purely out of friendship, of commonalty, I let myself enjoy it. I would like a friend. I've learned that even if I can't have him in one way, another is just as well. A nice gentleman wanting to spend time with me? If only Carson could see. If I was foul no one would want to spend time with me. Carson. The others. I wonder if I should tell them I am leaving, but it's not their business to know. And no one would notice either.

As we walk the sun sets behind us. Our shadows blending into one another before fading entirely. "Glad to see you survived the day," I tease. He nods and smiles.

"I know I am new to the that job, but it seems that man uses any excuse to bark." I put my hands in my pockets.

"How long were you with the Townsends?"

"Several years. But since the war, finding a job is... it isn't easy."

"I understand. If it wasn't for the Gradnthoms, I dunno where I'd be."

"Enjoying your new title?" I furrow my brow as I don't recall telling him this.

"Robert tell you then?" He shakes his head.

"Heard about it, footman news gets around I suppose." He smiles and I nod.

"And yes, yes I am thank you." We step aside to let a married couple pass.

Look at us pair? I haven't gone out like this since the Carnival.

"Hungry are you? I haven't eaten since breakfast so please excuse me."

"Certainly." We head to the Swan House, never been there and even the name sounds a bit too high of a price. But it turns out to be affordable and nice inside. Strange white birds everywhere, on walls and tables. Surprisingly busy.

I sit across from him. We are the only man and man pair in the place, and I though I wish that could mean something. It doesn't. We both order a small meal as it is all we can get for what's in our pockets. While we wait we bring up the war but talk little of it, until we realize we were stationed at the same camp once. For two weeks, the place I was before my hand was blown to bits. Then he says something that makes me wonder.

"The funny thing is. I could swear I remember seeing you."

"Did you really?" Evan nods and licks his lip.

"When I saw you on the street today, it all came back. I remember because, well, we were in line for dinner. There wasn't much food that night and if you didn't come fast, there would be nothing at all. But a soldier was walking over and erupted into a coughing fit." I remember this night. The man fell over, convinced himself he couldn't breathe, that his lungs had given out and died. We all felt that at one point.

"He was so... terrified." The memory of the fear is his blue eyes haunts my sight.

"But you coaxed him out of his panic. And by the time he was all right, food was all gone." I tap my finger on the table, avoiding his gaze.

"Well what's maggot bread anyway." I say, finding myself abashed.

"Sacrificing food in war time is a great sacrifice indeed. I was going to bring you some food, but by the time I got over there you were gone." I spin the tip of my knife on the table.

"Funny the way things work out. Bloody miles from home, you see me there then I run into you here."

"Life is a funny thing." I nod.

"There's no denying that one." A woman brings us our plates.

We talk on through eating. Talk on till our food goes cold and we share a laugh about it. I learn he is a man of good talk. He is a man of kindness as he offers to pay for the meal. A man of luck for he has only a few scars from the war. A man of smarts for he paints pictures. Would do it for a living if only he could do it and live. He is a man of a good heart. For he asks me questions. I tell him the outskirts of myself. We talk of politics. We growl about inequality and on that matter, many glower at us for our heated voices. For our views are one in the same.

We talk on until we realize the looks they're giving us here are that it's closing time and we haven't budged. We give in and I pay my bit.

We step onto the streets. Nearly deserted as it is about 10. Cold and quiet. We walk and talk. I suddenly feel like I know him. After talking war, and of the night with the soldier, I feel like a comrade. I feel part of something again.

He gets it. He gets me.

"Thank you for joining me, Thomas. I hoped you enjoyed yourself."

"I certainly did. Might be some of the most fun I've had in a long while." His eyes are on mine and they smile when he smiles. Regular fellas say that, right?

"You've got a walk and an early day ahead of you, I best let you get on your way." He reaches his hand out and I take it. His palm is warm and grip firm.

"Perhaps I'll come in for a pint. On your break we can share war stories and frighten up your boss." I tease and his cheeks crease as he smiles.

"Sounds like a time to have. Until then," he nods.

"You know where to find me." I let go of his hand and turn about. Heading down the road. A rat scatters across the quiet street. I hear the fella's footsteps fade into the distance. Evan. The image of his smile is in me head. A lovely smile, but it bounces off the stone wall around my heart like raindrops. I've learned not to let them in. From man or woman. And from friends of his look especially. It only make things worse. We cannot be more than that, but is he a Friend? I'd like to think so.

"Well Thomas, looks like you've got yourself a proper friend." I say to the empty road. I light a cigarette and watch the moonlight bleed through the thin gray haze I've created.

I've slipped inside past Mrs. Patmore and in bed before midnight. I sleep well. And I dream not of the war for the first time in months.


Author's note: Please review! And if you'd like a face for Evan, I imagine him played by Luke Evans (if that isn't already very obvious ;) )