AN: So basically I've had this rattling around my brain for awhile and decided to write it down. This first chapter might seem a little disorganized but it'll get better. I hope.

Also, this may or may not be my first story. So let's just see what happens, shall we?

Matthew gazed at his son adoringly. He had done it. No, they had done it. They had managed to create this perfect, tiny person. He had imagined their child many times in the past eight months, but this topped all of his imaginings.

"I suppose I should go and collect the others now, shouldn't I? Robert must be straining at the bits to see his grandson," he murmured, reluctant to break the spell that was cast over them.

"Must you?" Mary replied. She too was enthralled by her son. Their son. "Couldn't you just telephone? I don't think Baby is quite ready to let you go yet or me as a matter of fact."

"Well, I suppose if you insist…" Matthew teased while simultaneously shifting himself onto the bed. He certainly needed no convincing. He was simply so content right now, in this pristine room, half-on the hospital bed trying to get as close as possible to Mary and their son.

Robert Crawley was usually a very patient man. However, when his eldest daughter and the man he had come to see as a son had done the one thing he had always dreamed of doing, when they finally, finally kept the line of Downton safe (and given him another grandchild to boot!), his patience wore a little thin.

"Robert, come and sit down. Pacing around isn't going to make Matthew come any faster," Cora admonished, albeit half-heartedly. She was so very proud of Mary and Matthew too, as much as Robert really. But that didn't mean she had the urge to wear a hole in the carpet!

Robert was definitely getting a little impatient to see his first grandson now. Where was Matthew?

"He's probably too caught up with Mary and the baby," He remarked. His continuous pacing stopped as he announced, "Actually, I think I might as well just go to them myself."

"Oh Robert, are you sure you don't want to give them a little more time to themselves? They have just had a baby," Cora said.

"Oh, but they'll have the rest of their lives to be alone with the baby. I'm sure they won't mind indulging a very happy old man." And without another word, Robert practically skipped out of the room.

It was so very hard to break the comfortable silence that had blanketed the room, but Mary knew they couldn't stay like this forever. Besides, there was one thing which really had to be addressed.

"Matthew, I believe our child needs a name."

"You mean something other than our prince, the great heir to Downton?"

"Hush, you know what I mean," Mary's eyes twinkled at his gentle teasing. The shifting of the baby clamored her attention and she brought her gaze down to him. Without glancing up she murmured, "William."

Matthew strained to hear her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"William Crawley. That's his name. If you agree, of course."

"My darling, it's perfect. Our little William."

Mary suddenly looked up at Matthew, as if just remembering something. "You don't think Mama will be too terribly put out that we're not naming him Robert? She was so fond of the idea."

Matthew recalled the many debates that occurred over dinner between his mother, Cora, and the Dowager. It was partially why he and Mary did not choose a name ahead of time. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Mary's ideas for names varied greatly during her pregnancy, and ranged from Perseus to Matthew Reginald Robert Crawley. Not at all.) In any case, he had no desire to jump back into that discussion, much as he doubted anyone would care right now.

"No. She'll be fine. Besides, we wouldn't want him to grow up under the shadow of his great Grandpapa," he replied with a slight grin.

The newly-named William Robert Crawley stared up at his parents. He had the deep chestnut hair of his mother and the piercing blue eyes of his father. His parents, in turn, stared back at him and wondered if things could possibly be any more perfect.

Matthew might be influencing me more than I realize, Robert thought as he drove down the tree lined road. He had convinced Pratt that he didn't need to drive him to the hospital. It was only a short way, and he could manage it himself. But how I am so ever grateful for Matthew and all he has done.

He was so happily distracted by his thoughts that Robert did not even notice the large truck driving his way.

Back in the hospital room, unbeknownst to him or anyone, Matthew Crawley had just become the 6th Earl of Grantham.