I'm back! I haven't written for a while because I'm just coming to the end of quite a few important exams, so apologies. This is my first attempt at a Matthew/Mary fanfic, and to make it even harder for myself, I have based it upon one of my favourite pieces of music ever, Chopin's Prelude No. 15 in Db major. If you haven't read it already, I recommend that you listen to it before you read this, as it will make more sense. But I just couldn't resist adding a beautiful song to a beautiful relationship. Enjoy and please review!

Mary was angry. Completely and utterly fuming. Matthew had gone to work for a few extra hours, despite the fact he promised her that he wouldn't overwork himself and would spend some time with her.

She knew the Bates case was stressful, and she was so extremely grateful to him for taking on such a huge challenge, but this was getting ridiculous. Matthew had now worked every Saturday for the past three weeks, so Mary saw even less of her husband.

She was alone in the house (and would be for a good few hours yet, she supposed bitterly). Isobel had gone down to the hospital, and Mrs Bird and Molesley had gone up to the Abbey to help the staff prepare for a huge dinner that was to be held that night. Frustrated, Mary marched down the stairs, making sure each step resulted in a satisfying bang.

She knew where she was heading without even realising. She walked into the small library and took a seat at the old piano. She had learned to play from the age of six, as did all of her sisters, and although she was very talented, she never found any time to play. She had now though, so seized the opportunity.

As finger met key a sense of calm engulfed her. It had begun to rain outside, and the patter of raindrops provided a soothing beat.

She began to play a Chopin song, one that took her almost a year to learn. It was difficult, but she completely adored it. She remembered Edith playing it when she had just married Matthew, and had gone to visit everyone up at the Abbey. It saddened her to see Edith alone in the big house, but she needn't worry about that now Edith had Sir Anthony.

She closed her eyes, the notes now so firmly etched in her mind it was impossible for error. The music suddenly flung her into reminiscence.

She thought of Matthew, and how happy they were together. When she awoke beside him every day, she still sometimes couldn't believe that he was hers, that he loved her, that he was her husband. She thought of him holding her around the waist like he did, the shadows of kisses he left on her neck. She thought of how he told her he loved her all the time. She remembered when she used to love him but her feelings were not returned. She remembered the first time they said it to each other, properly, and how she had felt complete when they kissed afterwards. She then thought of how she used to feel about him. That man coming into her life and taking all that was rightfully hers.

The key of the music changed and so did Mary's mood. Starting quietly and then pressing the keys louder and louder, her original frustration returned, along with a melancholy feeling.

She thought back to the time of Lavinia and Richard. How she loved him so very, very much, but could never tell him. How she prayed every single night, begging with a God to keep him safe. She thought back to after Lavinia, how distraught Matthew had been, how he had avoided her, how she was doomed to loving him without him ever knowing. The feeling of loneliness she felt so frequently during the war came back to her, swallowing her in sadness as she remembered how all she cared about was Matthew, and he had no idea at all. Anger at how he had left her again today submerged, the notes now being practically hammered down.

The rain outside had gathered momentum, thunder now echoing the village. Yet she carried on playing, her bottled up emotion from years ago being realised through the intense melody.

The key changed yet again, and Mary suddenly calmed. She almost had an epiphany as her love for Matthew suddenly hit her. He was everything that she could ever want, really. He was so kind to her, yet he would say if he wasn't happy. That's one of the reasons why she always loved Matthew. If he had an opinion, he would express it.' There is no point in trying to hide something you believe in', he said. She admired him for that. He always knew what to say to make her feel better. He made sure she settled in to her new home after spending all of her life at the Abbey. He could see her emotions even when she tried to hide them, and would never go to bed without resolving an argument. She realised just how amazing he was. Those eyes, that hair, those lips, the voice, the manner...everything about him was perfect.

He couldn't help his workload. His dedication simply displayed his character, always doing what was right. Her heart swelled with affection, and as she gently pressed the last notes of the song, he was forgiven in her head.

The rain outside had calmed down to a gentle spit. She sat in silence for a few seconds, her emotions washing over her. It had been a long time since she had thought so thoroughly about everything.

"That was beautiful."

Gasping, Mary spun round. There stood her husband. He was leaning against the door frame and smiling, partly with admiration and partly with awe.

"Matthew!" she said in a shocked tone. "How long have you been stood there?"

"I'd just got back in when you were stomping down the stairs, and was going to follow you, but I saw you sit at the piano seat and didn't want to disturb you."

"Well…" Mary tried to scold him and make him feel guilty about going to work against his promise, but after her thoughtful playing and just the sight of her husband smiling at her, her heart melted.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said weakly, a smile reaching her dark eyes.

"You know, we've been married almost a year and that's the first time I've heard you play. You're outstanding," Matthew said as he walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her where she sat.

"Why did you come home? I thought you were busy at work?" Mary said lightly, but still slightly accusingly. Matthew squeezed her.

"You're probably going to find this dreadfully soppy, but I missed you. Why would I be at work when I have time to catch up on Monday and my amazing," he planted a kiss on top of her head, "beautiful," another kiss, "talented wife was at home all by herself with no one attending to her needs."

"Oh Matthew," Mary sighed, before standing up and kissing him gently.

The rain continued to beat the windows rhythmically as the kiss lingered.

He would always be there.

FIN