Decking the Halls

Summary: It's their first Christmas as husband and wife, the first in their new cottage, the first time decorating together. What surprises are waiting for them?

Night had fallen more quickly than usual, bringing with it the grey, heavy clouds that were now sprinkling snowflakes over the countryside. Large flakes lazily drifted past the window, some sticking and forming beautiful patterns on the glass, others reaching the ground to enhance the soft, white blanket now covering the earth outside the little cottage.

Nestled safely inside, Charles and Elsie Carson snuggled together, in their nightwear, on their sofa in front of the crackling fire, warmed by the flames licking earnestly at the large logs behind the wire grate. Elsie sipped on her hot tea and tried to read a chapter in the latest novel she had borrowed from the library at the Abbey.

Charles, however, found he couldn't concentrate enough to devote his attention to his book, choosing instead to rest his head comfortably in Elsie's lap and enjoying her caresses while daydreaming of warmer days and the flower garden he planned to plant in the Spring. Elsie's fingers lazily threaded through Charles's black and silver hair, lightly caressing his scalp and lulling her into a more relaxed state of mind, unintentionally making it easier for him to close his eyes and imagine a summer's day by the lake taking a picnic with his wife.

Not for the first time that evening, though, Elsie released a soft, uneasy sigh. It was one he'd learned meant something important, one that alerted Charles to the fact that something was weighing on his wife's mind. Gently, he grasped her wrist and brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to her palm.

"Elsie, what's wrong, love?" While he waited for her reply, he tenderly stroked her hand between his, planting light kisses to each finger. In her own time, she would tell him. She merely needed to know she had his full attention.

"It's nothing, really," she lied. "I'm just a bit restless, I suppose, and I cannot concentrate on my book. We should probably turn in soon, anyway." She removed her hand from his grasp and stroked his cheek. "I'm glad you had the foresight to start the fire in the bedroom and close the door. It should be nice and toasty in there by now." She made to move but Charles refused to budge.

"I'm sure it is, and we will appreciate it when we do retire for the night, but right now, I'd like you to talk to me. I'd like to know what's troubling you so." Before she could argue against his request, he shifted enough so he could reach her lips, silencing her with a soft kiss filled with love and reassurance. As the kiss ended, Charles sat up and pulled Elsie into his arms, holding her close and rubbing her back soothingly, his lips pressed to the side of her head. He would wait, all night if necessary, for her to open up to him, to tell him her woes.

Elsie accepted his tender care and concern, relaxing into his embrace and using the quiet moments to gather her thoughts. When she finally spoke, what she said was something Charles could have never imagined.

"It's our first Christmas in the cottage," she announced, as if this news was somehow monumental.

Charles laced his fingers with hers and toyed with the small band of gold she wore on her left ring finger. "Yes, it is. A lot of things have changed for us in the last few months. I hope you're not telling me you've already grown disenchanted with married life," he said nervously.

She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled sweetly at him. "Daft man! No, that's not it at all. I have never been happier." She raised her head and kissed him softly. "I love you and the life we're building together."

"Then, forgive me if I sound disbelieving, but those sighs … those were not sounds of contentment. If our married life isn't troubling you, something is, and I'd like to know what it is so we can work together to make it better." Once again, he brought her hand to his lips, leaving feather light kisses along her knuckles.

"Christmas is coming," she said in a very matter-of-fact manner, resting her head back on his chest and tightening her hold of him.

"That it is … our first Christmas as man and wife. I'm looking forward to it, to waking up with you, my wife, on Christmas morning and falling asleep with you in my arms that evening after an eventful day."

She hummed softly in response. "That will be a nice way to start and end our first Christmas together," she replied, though Charles easily perceived a hesitation in her voice.

"Elsie Carson, I know I'm not usually as fast as lightning to pick up on things where you are concerned. I would dare say that I'm learning, though, and there's something that's troubling you about Christmas, and I'd like to know what it is. No more beating around the proverbial bush. There's nothing that you cannot tell me."

She leaned back and studied his face for a long moment. "Look around you, Charles. Does it feel like Christmas in our home? There's no garland on our mantle, no wreath on our door, nothing. The only thing that would even indicate that the holiday is approaching is a simple card from my sister and one from your butler friend in London." She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "All my life, I've dreamed of what it would be like to have my own home, my own family, during Christmas. Since I left my parents farm, I've spent every Christmas making sure that someone else's family enjoyed the day or that the young staff under my care were remembered. I suppose, part of me had hoped this year might be different." She rested her cheek on his shoulder and ran her hand along his chest, wrapping her arm around his waist. "I'm sure you think me very silly, Mr. Carson."

His hold on her tightened and he chuckled softly as she referred to him by his formal title. "Quite the opposite, in fact, Mrs. Hughes," he teased, hoping she would smile. He was rewarded with the sounds of her soft laughter. "I think nothing of the sort. In fact, you may find this interesting, but I wouldn't mind a little Christmas cheer in the house, as well." He tilted her head up until he was able to look her in the eyes. "Why don't we take our half day together tomorrow and go into Ripon? I am sure we will be able to find a few things there to decorate our home, and I can escort the most beautiful woman I know to a delicious tea at her favorite tea shop."

Elsie's smile intensified greatly and her eyes sparkled, the glow from the fire only enhancing her excitement. "Could we really do that, Charles? We wouldn't need to buy much, just a few odds and ends? I am sure I could do wonders with some bits of red ribbon, some greenery … simple things here and there, really."

Her enthusiasm was contagious and before long, Charles had packed away all ideas of springtime gardens and blossoming flowers, exchanging that dream for one filled with Christmas decorations and a warm, inviting home which would make his wife so very happy. "Why don't we head to bed and we can discuss our plans for tomorrow? I'd like to hear your ideas for decorating our cottage, and maybe I can offer a few suggestions, myself."

"Oh Charles, I would love that. We can choose things we'd both appreciate. I want this to be about us … not me and my silly notions … but us."

"And it will be, love, though there's nothing silly about what we're planning to do. We will take our time and look through the various shops until we find the perfect items. Then, we can round out our day by decorating and turning our little cottage into something resembling a greeting card."

Elsie took his hand in hers and pulled him from the sofa and towards their bedroom. As they settled for sleep, they spoke openly and honestly about Christmas dreams, hopes, likes and dislikes. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he was the luckiest man in the world to be married to Elsie Hughes Carson.

Just as they had discussed the night before, Charles and Elsie spent their entire afternoon in Ripon looking through the various shops and making small purchases here and there, pointing out things that each thought the other might like or want for their small home.

Elsie bought a generous amount of red ribbon, intending to grab a few sprigs of greenery from the Abbey, the bits that were discarded when that tree was trimmed. "No sense in letting those lovely boughs go to waste," she added when describing her plans for the mantle to Charles.

"I would agree with you there, Mrs. Carson. Never let it be said that you were one for letting something useful go to waste. You're the only woman in Yorkshire, no … the world … who could take this grumpy butler and turn him into your little Christmas elf," he teased before kissing her cheek sweetly.

He was duly rewarded with a playful swat to his chest and a broad grin. "Just for that, little elf, you're in charge of making the bows using the ribbon we've purchased." The look of horror on his face was enough to send Elsie into a fit of giggles. "No! That will never do. I want the bows to be presentable when I invite Mrs. Patmore over for tea."

"Why don't I leave you to the frilly bits, and I'll step outside and inspect the wreaths? I'll choose a few that I like and you can make the final decision. It will keep you inside where it's warm, and we can make it to the tea shop sooner rather than later," he suggested. "We still have plenty of time, but if we get home early enough, we can have most of our decorating completed before bed."

"A man after my own practical heart. I'll wait here for you, and when you're ready, you can come and find me."

"I don't know how, but you managed to make that sound a little risqué," he teased, reminding her of their escapade at the beach over a year ago.

"And if I did," she volleyed back. "We're decorating our cottage, Mr. Carson. We can afford to be a little cheeky." She gave him a quick wink then turned on her heels and set off for the dark green fabric which caught her eyes, already envisioning a lovely set of napkins and perhaps a matching tablecloth for their kitchen table.

Once he was assured that Elsie was preoccupied, Charles slipped to the front of the store and politely asked to use their telephone to place a call to Downton Abbey. The mere mention of the large estate and the shopkeeper was only more than happy to grant Mr. Carson's request.

Before they had left for Ripon earlier that day, Charles had made a few phone calls and cashed in a few favors from the lads in the stables. Elsie was certainly going to be surprised when they returned home this evening based on the very satisfactory answers he'd received from Mr. Jenkins back at stables.

With Charles satisfied that his plans were coming together nicely and with no problems in sight, he slipped around the store, very careful to avoid Elsie. He had paid great attention to her visions for their cottage, for their first Christmas together. It also helped that he had known her for decades and knew her to be a woman of discerning taste, not one to fall for the lace and bows, frills and glitter, ornate and ostentatious.

As he looked through the various displays of decorations, it was easy for Charles to discern which pieces Elsie would appreciate and which ones he should avoid at all costs. Reds, blues, greens, golds … those were the colors she had mentioned when they had spoken of Christmas memories. He had added silver to the list, and so it was only fitting that he would add a fair amount of silver trinkets to his purchases. After all, Elsie had reassured him that this was to be a blending of their styles and preferences. At least these particular pieces of silver he wouldn't have to worry about polishing on a regular basis … if ever.

Charles paused as he reached a particular display in the store, and his eyes grew wide. This was something he hadn't considered, even in passing, when he had set about on his secret mission. He closed his eyes and tried very hard to think back over all the years, all the discussions, all the passing comments made about and around Christmas that he had shared with Elsie. He ran his hand across his face and released a frustrated sigh just as a sales lady approached.

"May I be of some assistance, sir?" She was a young lady who spoke softly and who seemed to have a certain joy about her demeanor. "You look like you've just been asked the hardest question known to man." She smiled sweetly, hoping to alleviate some of his distress.

Charles pulled himself to his full height then realized she was only trying to help. With his shoulders slumped, Charles nodded to the display in front of him. "We're newlyweds, you see, and I'm trying to surprise my wife. But, I never thought to ask her which she preferred. If I buy the wrong thing, it could set a bad tone to the holiday, and my wife is so sweet so she'd never freely admit that whatever I bought wasn't exactly what she wanted."

The sales lady could easily see that Charles was working himself up into a state. It's something she had seen her own father do countless times, most often resulting in a headache and a foul mood by the time the situation was resolved. It made her even keener to help the man in front of her, if for no other reason than the spirit of love and joy of the season. "Might I ask a few personal questions, sir? Nothing too personal, mind you. I wouldn't wish to pry."

Charles thought for a moment then reasoned that he had nothing to lose, and if her questions were too impertinent, he certainly didn't have to answer them. "Yes, you may," he granted.

"This may sound a bit far-fetched, but hear me out, please. I want you to close your eyes and describe your wife to me."

He looked at the young lady as if she had asked him to dance a jig in front of all the shoppers in the store. "You want me to … what? What on earth does that have to do with choosing between my two options here?" His arm stretched out across the items on the table, nearly knocking one of them to the floor.

"Trust me, sir. Nothing too detailed … just a few things about her. What's she like? What's her favorite color? Is she a serious person or more jovial?"

Charles took a deep breath and decided he didn't have a better plan, other than looking a fool if Elsie rounded a corner and saw him standing there taking part in this silly exercise. "Very well," he said, closing his eyes and drawing an image of Elsie to his mind, one of her on their wedding day.

"My wife is very beautiful to me. She has dark brown hair with streaks of silver just around the temples, and she has blue eyes that change colors with her moods. She's a very practical woman who is capable of organizing a lavish dinner party or a quiet dinner for two with little effort at all." Charles grinned as he thought of something to add. "She can be cheeky when she wants to be, sarcastic to a fault, and a woman of mystery, too. Underneath it all, though, lies a heart of gold with so much love for those she considers her family and friends."

"And what, may I ask, is her favorite color? And no peeking. We're almost done," she chided when she saw him about to open his eyes.

"Green, dark green. She has several coats and hats in that particular color, though she looks very pretty in blues, too. It brings out her eyes."

The lady smiled and gently touched Charles on the arm. "You may open your eyes now, sir, and I believe we've made your selection."

Slowly, he did as she asked and was amazed at what he saw when he opened them. "How did you manage that?" he asked, reaching out to gently take the beautiful angel from her hands. "She looks so very similar to my Elsie, even down to the coloring of her eyes and the dress. My Elsie's hair is darker but she wears it like this, pinned up," he said softly as he cradled the angel in his large hands.

By listening to Charles describe his wife, the young sales lady had managed to seek out the perfect angel for him from among the many on the table. She had brown hair, arranged neatly on her head with soft waves showing the curls which had been tamed. Her eyes were a perfect mixture of blue and green, easily allowing the onlooker to determine their precise color. The angel's dress was made of dark green velvet and lined at the bottom, the hem of the sleeves, and around the neckline with faux fur. Swirling designs in a darker shade of green and accented with gold only added to the overall exquisite nature of the angel. Golden wings stretched towards the heavens from her back as elegant wisps of tulle cascaded down her back and in her right hand, she carried a trumpet with a little bit of greenery adorning it.

Charles immediately knew he could leave the store without many of the things in his shopping bag, but certainly leaving this one item behind was not an option. He could already imagine it becoming a cherished bit of their Christmas decorations for years to come. But, as he looked at the young lady who had been so helpful, a thought struck him. "When you happened upon me, I was torn between purchasing an angel or a star. Most families choose one or the other to adorn the tops of their Christmas trees, but you never asked which I preferred. What made you decide to seek out an angel over a star?"

The girl gave him a sincere smile. "That was easy. I asked you to describe your wife while I looked over the choices. The more detailed you were, the easier it was to discern that she is your angel. You certainly weren't describing a star," she teased, "all pointy and golden, and rather rigid." She laughed at her own joke, and soon, Charles was laughing with her. With this young woman's help, Charles quickly added a few more items to his bag, purchased them all, then asked her to slip them in amongst the other items he would be buying before leaving the store. He made sure the woman understood that these particular items were to be a secret from his wife.

Satisfied that he had made some wise choices and had most of what they needed for his little surprise for Elsie, Charles dashed outside, quickly, to survey the wreaths. Choosing three that he thought Elsie might approve, he returned to the store and found Elsie admiring the Christmas tree in the middle of the store. He slipped behind her quietly and ran his hand down her arm, drawing her back against his chest.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, love?" His voice was soft as it caressed her ear, causing her to close her eyes to relish the feel of her husband so near to her.

"Yes, it's lovely. Almost as pretty as the one at Downton," she added almost as an afterthought.

"What makes that one back home any better than this one?"

"The ornaments, I suppose, or maybe it's just the memories behind those decorations." She turned in his arms and shook her head. "Listen to me. I'm sure you're going to tell me there's no need to get sentimental and that life is about the acquisition of memories."

Charles studied her face for a moment, recognizing her defense mechanism of brushing off his serious question with idle chatter. She was about to move passed him on her way to the counter when he stopped her with his hand on her waist.

"First of all, I wasn't about to say either of those things. Secondly, while I do still believe that we collect memories as we go through life, I have also come to the realization that we have it within our ability to create our own memories, not just wait for the special moments to land in our laps. Each and every moment I spend with you is wonderful, Elsie, though there are special moments that I cherish above all others." He gave her waist a little squeeze and smiled softly at her. "Decorating our home for Christmas … that is one of those special memories we're choosing to create." She nodded her head, letting him know she fully understood what he was trying, in his own way, to convey. "So, Mrs. Carson, shall we take a walk over to the tree at the back of the store and choose an ornament to mark the occasion?"

Elsie patted his chest and smiled. "We don't need to spend money on an ornament for a tree we don't even have, Charles. I think we've found enough pieces to add a little festive look to the house."

"Indulge me, Elsie, please. We said this is about us and our new life together. Why not buy an ornament for our first Christmas as man and wife? Even if we don't have a tree this year, that's not to say we won't have one in the future, and we could place the ornament there and every year afterwards."

"Have I told you today how much I love you, Charles Carson? Sometimes, you surprise me and make me fall in love with you all over again." She reached up and lightly touched his cheek, wishing more than anything that she could kiss him. Instead, she brushed her thumb across his lips and nodded her head. "Let's go in search of that perfect ornament. I'm sure we can find some place to display it this year, perhaps on the mantle or somewhere in our bedroom."

Charles took her hand in his and guided her to the back of the store. "Let's see what sort of item we choose before you start thinking of ways to display it, love."

The search for the perfect ornament was not as easy as Charles's quest for the tree topper. He had nearly lost his resolve not to tell Elsie about the surprise tree waiting for them back at the cottage. His call to Mr. Jenkins had been to make certain the stable boys had found a lovely tree, had used the key left under the mat to set it up in the house, and that all was well. Now, more than ever, it was important to him to find a lovely ornament to hang on their tree tonight. The others, he would leave to Elsie to purchase in the village, but this one was the most important, the one they should choose together.

"Charles, what do you think of this one?" Elsie stood on her tiptoes and reached as high as she could to barely touch the bottom of the ornament in question. He stepped up beside her and easily removed the fragile snowflake from the top boughs of the tree, handing it down gently to Elsie. "Oh, Charles, it's beautiful, and it even has the year written in silver."

Charles leaned closer to Elsie, looking at the snowflake she held in her hand. "I think this is the perfect one for us. The year is correct for our marriage, and it will always remind us of how we came to purchase it … a snowy evening spent lazily by the fire in our very own cottage."

Her eyes sparkled with the memory of the previous evening and how Charles had listened to her then offered up a wonderful solution. "Our very own Christmas snowflake. It's perfect."

Charles watched her inspecting the glass ornament for a moment, comparing her lovely smile to that of the angel hidden in a parcel waiting for him at the front of the store. "Yes, she's perfect," he said without thinking, causing Elsie's head to snap up in confusion.

"She?"

Charles realized his mistake instantly. "Well, umm, you'd hardly call a delicate little snowflake a "he," would you? No? Snowflakes are definitely of the feminine gender," he proclaimed, as if trying to convince her that he spoke with authority on the matter.

"Oh really? And how did you come across this brilliant piece of knowledge, Mr. Carson?"

"I … well … you see … Elsie, it only makes sense, doesn't it? Each snowflake is different and beautiful in its' own way. They're sturdy enough to withstand a fall from great heights and still reflect the beauty within. So, you see, they have to be feminine. It only makes sense that way."

Her eyebrows knitted together as she mulled over his words and the sentiments behind them. Deciding not to waste any more time discussing the gender of an inanimate object, one that would melt if touched or, in this case, break if dropped, she simply smiled and handed him the small victory. "Very well, my dear. Snowflakes are feminine, and yes, she is perfect for us."

With all of their items purchased, including a new wreath for their cottage door, Charles and Elsie headed home with more bags than they'd intended. Elsie had mentioned more than once on the way home that she really didn't think they had purchased so many things. Charles, trying to conceal his part in the number of items they'd purchased, attempted to brush aside her comments, reminding her that some of the things she'd chosen were delicate and the clerk had, perhaps, been overly cautious when wrapping them.

As they approached the door to their home, Charles's excitement grew. He couldn't wait to see the tree that the lads had chosen or the look on Elsie's face when she saw their first Christmas tree. Yes, perhaps they should have gone into the woods to find one on their own, but the opportunity to surprise her was too great to miss. Next year, he mused, they would bundle up and go in search of their own tree, but for now, he would relish the credit for having the idea.

"Elsie, love, my hands are full. Do you think you could unlock the door?"

"Certainly. Where is your key?"

Mild panic set in briefly as he envisioned his key on their dining room table where he'd told the stable boys and Mr. Jenkins to leave it. "Didn't you bring your keys with you today?"

She huffed a little and mumbled something about the bottom of her handbag as she began to fumble around for the key. With a click of the key in the lock, Elsie pushed open the door and motioned for Charles to go in before her.

"Oh, no! Ladies first. Besides, you can clear a path for me in case there's something in the way that might make me trip and fall," he teased.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. We'll freeze to death out here," she fussed, stepping inside the door and moving aside quickly for Charles to enter. As he kicked the door closed behind him, Elsie turned to take off her hat and coat. That's when she saw it … the most beautiful tree, large and full, lots of pretty branches, and almost perfectly shaped.

"Charles … look! A tree! Someone came in while we were away and left us a Christmas tree," she exclaimed, rushing over to the tree and inspecting it, as if expecting it to give up its secrets easily to her.

"Happy Christmas, Elsie." Charles placed the packages on the sofa and moved quickly to her side, wrapping her up in the fiercest of embraces. "I had the boys from the stable help me with this little surprise. I left them my key and some money for the tree. They did all this for you while we were away."

"When … how … I was with you the entire day! When did you plan this, you darling, lovely man," she asked, peppering his face with light kisses.

"This morning, while you were working on the menus with Mrs. Patmore, I phoned Jenkins and explained to him what I needed. He was only too happy to help and the lads could use an extra shilling, so it worked out well for everyone."

Elsie stretched up on her toes and kissed Charles passionately. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him down to her as she moved even further into his embrace. When their lips parted, they were both a little breathless, though smiling from ear to ear.

"We talked of a great many things last night, Elsie, but we never mentioned a tree. To me, that was always one of the most beautiful parts of Christmas … seeing the pretty lights and the decorations. I am looking forward to decorating the rest of the house with you, but transforming this tree into our very own bit of Christmas … that's what's going to give me the most pleasure."

Elsie looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "You are such a romantic at heart, and I love you so much for it. She kissed him again, this time slowly and deeply, trying to show him just how much she appreciated everything he did for them and how lucky she felt to be his wife.

Charles held her close for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms. His lips grazed her temple as he finally broke the silence. "Let's change into our nightclothes. I'll start a fire while you unpack our bags from today, then we can start decorating our tree."

"That sounds lovely, but we only bought the one ornament. It won't take us very long to decorate it. We will have to go to the village for a few more things so it won't look so sparse."

"Ye of little faith," he teased. "You don't honestly believe all these bags were merely the things you purchased, do you? And here was me thinking you were the great detective of Downton Abbey, knower of all things, discerner of secrets, inquisitor …"

"Yes, yes. I get the idea. So, you're telling me that while we were separated, you bought the things we'd need to decorate this tree?" Her voice was higher than usual and her brogue more pronounced as she hurried to the bags sitting on their sofa.

"I'm not telling you anything, and you're not allowed to open the bags until we're changed and ready to decorate," he said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around her from behind and placing kisses along her neck as he drew her away from the parcels, intent on guiding her down the hallway to their bedroom.

Charles had purchased a few ornaments for their tree along with some pretty red, gold, and silver strands of beads. He had adamantly refused to cover up their pretty evergreen with the tinsel he'd seen so often used. Along with the beads and other trinkets, he had also splurged and purchased a strand of electric lights, which he hoped Elsie would like. He explained that they could illuminate the tree in the evening as they relaxed by the fire. He was rewarded for his idea by a sweet kiss to the lips and a promise of many nights snuggling in the soft glow of firelight and tree lights.

Over the course of the next two hours, Charles and Elsie unpacked their purchases, taking great pride in sharing their choices with each other. The last thing to be revealed was the angel for the top of their tree. Charles took great pleasure in describing how the topper came into his possession, the questions the girl had asked, the things he'd said to describe his beautiful wife. In the end, he was most happy to learn that Elsie would have preferred an angel, and his choice was exquisite … as it was in all other aspects of their lives.

Later that evening, Charles and Elsie reclined on their sofa, admiring the new decorations in their home. Elsie rested comfortably between Charles's legs, her head tucked securely beneath his chin. A soft blanket, a wedding gift from the family, covered them as they enjoyed the stillness of the evening and the happiness of simply being together.

"Elsie?"

"Hmm?" she replied, her voice sounding like a mixture of drowsiness and contentment.

"I know it's early, probably too early in fact, but would you mind if I gave you one of your presents now? There's more to the gift, but I want you to have this particular item tonight. It would make this evening even more special … to me … and later to you when you receive the other part on Christmas morning."

She raised her head and kissed him softly, cradling his cheek in her hand. "If you'd like to give me a present, I'll happily accept it. Or I can wait. The choice is yours."

"The thing is that I don't want to wait. I want to give you all my gifts tonight but I can't. But this one is very special, and I'd like you have to it now."

Charles shifted Elsie until she was seated and he was able to quickly make his way back to the bedroom. A moment later, he returned with a pretty blue box with a silver bow. One look at the bow and Elsie knew that Charles had tied it himself. The man could create a perfect tie for his livery and even his Sunday suits, but apparently those skills did not transfer well to a present.

He sat down beside her on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he handed her the present. With baited breath, he watched as she gently removed the ribbon and lifted the lid. Nestled inside was a beautiful glass snow dome with an image of the Eiffel Tower standing proudly among the bits of fake snow swirling around.

"Charles, it's lovely," she said, turning the dome over and over in her hand, watching the snow churning about then settling once more. "Wherever did you find this? You didn't buy this today, did you?"

He took the snow dome from her and gave it a shake, watching the white bits falling back down to the base. "No, I've had this for several months. In fact, I have been working on your Christmas surprise since late summer. I saw this particular item in the newspapers in London. There was an advertisement for the Eiffel Tower Snow Dome, so I wrote to them and purchased one for you."

Elsie brought her hand up and covered his, both of them shaking the globe together. "It's beautiful, and I will cherish it always. I didn't know you were so fond of France and the Eiffel Tower, though. I have learned something new about you tonight, Mr. Carson, several things in fact."

Charles shook his head and grinned before kissing her for several long moments. If he wasn't careful, Elsie would find a way to entice him to tell her the rest of the presents he had in mind for her, and that simply wouldn't do. On Christmas morning, he wanted to surprise her … first with his letter of resignation as Butler of Downton Abbey, secondly with their tickets to Paris where they would wake up each morning to a view of the Eiffel Tower, and thirdly with several new dresses, hats, and coats for their trip.

He had truly meant it when he said that life was the acquisition of memories and in the end that's all there was. Finally, he'd reached a point in his life where he was more interested in making those memories and living a little with the woman who owned his heart. It was time to be a little risqué.

The End.

A/N: Thank you so much to Carryonlaughingandpainting for illustrating the story and for her encouragement with this story. If you'd like to see the angel tree topper and the painting of Charles and Elsie decorating their tree, go to my tumblr (Chelsie Carson) and take a peek!