A/N: Basically I've been working on this fic for a while now and I've finally decided its ready! I love Downton and I'm a heavy M/M shipper, this is my first ever fanfic for Downton and I'd love some reviews if you have the time! Next update might be a while away but please bare with me! Now, on with the show!

Rating: PG 13(may change)

Disclaimer: If I owned Downton Abbey, I'd steal all the costumes.

She wakes up to the sound of her iPhone alarm and grinds her teeth in frustration, regretting the drilling sound effect she chose the night before after having one too many at the club. Flashbacks form in her mind as her eyes widen in horror, throwing her clothes on and bolting towards the lounge room, praying she's conjured up a false memory but as she finds him in the kitchen pouring milk into his lumpy corn flakes, she knows that's not the case. Images hit her one after another and she squeezes her eyes shut, attempting to cope with the pounding headaches she just acquired. She grips the kitchen counter as the blonde comes to her rescue; putting her arm around his shoulder he helps her to the couch. She doesn't dare to open her eyes but mutters a "Thank you" before asking for black coffee. He laughs, bringing over two steaming mugs and hands her the one with red writing on it, she smiles as she gladly pours the hot liquid down her throat. After a few minutes, the brunette slowly opens her eyes and gazes at the absurdly attractive man kneeling beside her. He smiles and brushes a strand of his hair away before checking she's OK. She nods, questions spinning around in her head.

"Sorry, this may sound rude but I've just woken up with an extreme hangover, a blinding headache and a brief memory of last night...and somewhere amongst all of that, I don't remember your name?"

He felt awkward, who wouldn't? Last night he'd met a gorgeous woman, ended up back at her flat and this morning she could barley remember him. He shifted uncomfortably and she felt the agonizing silence grow quickly.

"Well, we talked and you invited me back to your flat and then-"

"Oh no..." She groaned and buried her head in her hands, she'd slept with a man she didn't remember "I'm so sorry, I'm sure it was an...enjoyable experience...but I-"

"No! I mean... we didn't have THAT sort of 'enjoyable experience'! We came back here and you passed out on the couch, I then carried you into your bed while I slept in the spare room. We didn't have... there was no..." He didn't feel the need to finish. That was plenty.

Mary silently thanks her mother for insisting on owning a spare room as she laughs with relief and looks into his bright blue eyes, her left eyebrow raised and a challenging smirk on her face.

"Afraid of the three letter word are we? Well thank God this didn't turn into anything along those lines!"

She scoffs and takes another sip of her coffee as he grabs his own mug and makes his way to the sink before roughly throwing it in.

"Would sleeping with me have been that bad? Well I suppose for a woman of your caliber, it would have been!" The blonde spits the harsh comeback as he grabs his dark green coat and makes for the door; a furious Mary follows as she pretends to casually lean against the doorway watching him leave. She refuses to let him see her anger and waits until he's entirely out of the apartment block before she slams the door of her London apartment so hard; it's almost thrown off its hinges.


A week later and she's entirely fixated on her own problems, forgetting all about the nameless handsome stranger that had spent the night at her house. After all, there are much more important things to focus on, her father hounding her about the upcoming anniversary party (where she'll no doubt be sitting next to some dreary man boasting about his money and career prospects, all the while enduring her mother's forceful gaze), her sister's current relationship with her family's limousine driver and her new co-worker, Evelyn Napier, is filtering with her non-stop.

Her phone buzzes and Mary sighs as she fishes into the pockets of her black woolen Chanel coat, hidden safely under her red umbrella as the British rain buckets down. She hails a cab outside of her sate-of-the-art office building and slides into the warm leather seat, murmuring her address to the driver as she finally checks her phone to find a text from her overbearing and over-American mother.

'Darling, I do hope you're not ignoring me! Never mind if you are, we'll talk at the party anyway. You haven't forgotten about it, had you?

Love always,

Mama

Xox'

Like it was actually possible for Mary to forget, her mother had been pestering her for weeks through any available form of technology. The brunette rolls her eyes as she pays the driver and steps out of the car, bounding into her apartment and out of the rain. She tears off her clothing and buries her head underneath the hot water of her shower, washing away the long day of nagging clients and clingy assistants. She works in advertising and spends her days schmoozing companies into her lap before passing them down a chain of never ending employees. Wieden & Kennedy London values her and pays well, she's a damn good saleswoman and she's earned her place. Unfortunately, even the shiny new company car doesn't compensate for her father calling the agency to secure her weekend off, making work an unreliable excuse to miss the party. She soon finds herself calling her mother mere minutes after she wraps herself in a dressing gown and settles on the couch.


The phone hums twice at the bottom of Cora's bag before she digs her hand into the large brown Orton, a gift from her youngest daughter before she left for University (some would say a bribe, but Sybil preferred calling it a 'parting nudge in the right direction'). Grasping at sunglasses, lipsticks, a purse containing only silver coins and an unopened packet of Mentos, the phone is finally brought to the surface as Mary's picture flashes on the screen in time with each ring.

"Mary! Darling, we were just talking about you!"

Mary rolls her eyes rubs a hand on her forehead, irritated by the obvious tone of her mother.

"Isn't that funny." Her voice is laced with sarcasm but her mother pretends not to notice.

"Yes, now darling, I'm just having lunch with Anthony Strallen, you remember him don't you?"

"No, should I?"

"Yes darling! He's the son of the lovely neighbor we used to have! Anyway, he's looking forward to seeing you this weekend!" She hears her mother excuse herself from the lunch and walk outside before adding, "And he's not the only one! Mary, you'll never believe it! I met this lawyer and-"

"Sounds lovely Mama, I have to run now... work's on the other line." It's two lies crammed into one sentence but it's good enough to get her a ticket out of the conversation. She hangs up and groans. Saturday is going to be hell.


He sits across from Robert and watches as several late arrivals enter the drawing room. The theme for his newest client's party is 'Masquerade' and even though he isn't one for costumes, he wares a simple black mask that accompanies his smart Armani tuxedo. Among the several women who stand next to the bookshelf, chatting with a glass of champagne in hand, he notices something familiar about the girl on the left. Her hair is full of thick chocolate curls and her long flowing red dress matches nicely to the silk red mask she wares. He watches her as she laughs when necessary and voices her opinion when required but she's not having fun. He can tell by the absent look in her eye that she hates every minute of this, much the same as him. He'd only come because the firm had insisted, as had the wife of their new client and just like that he found himself very far out of his comfort zone. This occurs to him as he finds Cora Crawley standing in front of him and ushers him over to the beautiful brunette.

"Darling! Mary, this is the lawyer I was telling you about! I'll leave you two to get better aquatinted!" She gushes before dashing off to another corner of the room, being the perfect social butterfly and hostess.

And that's when they both realize. But by then it's too late, they are trapped under the watchful eyes of her mother and his new client, so he musters up the courage to offer his hand and smiles.

"Hi, I'm Matthew."