Hi dear ones! I really wish to thank you for all your lovely reviews and your support: you're so so kind, thank you very much. This means a lot to me.

I must confess I'm rather enjoying myself while trying to write something decent for these plot bunnies. If Fellowes insists on treating them like that why shouldn't we have fun with them instead, hmm?

Next plot bunny should be the Valentine's Day one. I don't know how long it will be before I post because it's creating me problems. Several fics on that matter have already been published and they're all wonderful, so I'm afraid of coming up with weird and ridiculous ideas... I'll find something, don't worry, even if silly unfortunately. But then, what isn't silly in this collection?

PS: I forgot to add, if any of you want to leave a plot bunny in my ask on Tumblr (I'm prior-incantatem) I'd be more than happy to write something about it *.*


Charles had gathered Elsie into his arms when he heard rapping. He opened the door to find 5 yr old Master George with a fierce scowl. Pushing the Butler's knee, he marched in and announced to the room, "A word, Carson?" "I'll be in my parlor," Elsie said quietly, pulling the door to peek thru the gap. Fists on hips, George tipped his head back as far as it would go and stared up at the man. "I've decided to run away, Carson, would you have Morris bring the motorcar around?" What happens next?

Elsie stood behind the door left ajar, watching intently the scene in front of her.

Charles smiled at little Master George, his throat now tight with emotion. This situation reminded him of another time, another era, another night in which a little girl with dark hair (so different from George Crawley's fair hair) had gone to him asking him to help her running away from home.

"And where do intend to go, m'lord?"

"I can't possibly tell you, can I, Carson? This way you'll tell mama. I know you have a soft spot for her," replied George with a fierce look on his face that reminded him so much of Lady Mary.

She saw Charles kneeling down slowly to be at his eye level. "If you want the motorcar, m'lord, I could arrange for Morris to bring it around but…"

"But?"

"Well, that could be awkward for his Lordship, your grandfather. Not to mention your mother," he concluded, saying words he had already said many years before.

George Crawley remained silent while looking intently in the old butler's eyes and clutching his favourite toy soldier to his chest.

Charles had to swallow two times before he could speak again. "How about I give you sixpence to spend in the village instead?"

Master Crawley's eyes sparkled at that. Then he furrowed his brow, as if he was deep in thought. "Very well then. I'll give you my toy soldier in exchange for your sixpence."

"M'lord, I could never deprive you of…"

"Hush, Carson, let's not speak about it anymore," he said, in that commanding tone so typical of his mother. "After all I must show my appreciation and care for servants," he added in a soft tone, remembering him more of his father now.

After a moment's silence, she heard Charles reply. "Very good, m'lord, as you wish."

After their little trade was made, George Crawley excused himself and went upstairs, because "Nanny was probably looking for him".

Elsie entered his pantry chuckling softly. She closed the door after her but, when she turned, she saw Charles lost in his thoughts.

"Sixpence?" she asked him.

He turned to face her. "Pardon?"

"A sixpence for your thoughts? I could refund you," she teased him.

He smiled slightly at that.

"Whatever is the matter?" Elsie inquired.

He sighed. "It seems yesterday his mother came to me asking for some silver to run away from home and now look at him. Her son. So much like her."

She caressed his face, a loving look in her eyes. She knew how much he loved and cared for Lady Mary, he had watched her grow and it was only natural for him to love her son as well.

"I'm still convinced she had the better bargain, you know?"

He beamed. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do. You gave her a sixpence and the possibility to kiss you. Most women would kill for that."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Really?"

"I would kill for that," she teased.

"But you're lucky already, woman."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're the only one I love kissing," he said, before gathering her in his arms and kissing her squarely on the lips.


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