First off I just want to profusely apologies for the long wait, what with the holidays and trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing, I just haven't had time to write and I hope you will all understand that life is just like that. BUT, I have been trying to write for this story a lot more because I have so many ideas in my head and I would never want to leave a story to start another. But first I would just like to give you some background on Charles and Elsie.

Elsie was born in 1961 making her 55 and Charles was born in 1957, making him 4 years older than Elsie. It took Elsie 5 years to complete her education, graduating with a degree in Global Business Management where she now works as the senior adviser in Global Marketing for Crawley Luxury Hotels. Charles has a PhD in History, which focuses on mainly early 20th century; he also has a minor in English Literature. He is a successful self-proclaimed writer who writes mainly on the aristocracy and middle class in the 1920's, all of his books are historical fiction and all of them contain romance.

I think that's pretty much all I want to cover for the minute. I'm going to be rounding out both of their backgrounds in the next chapter which was written at the same time as this one so it should be up sooner rather than later. I hope you guys enjoy it!

What'll you do when you get lonely
And nobody's waiting by your side?
You've been running and hiding much too long.
You know it's just your foolish pride.

Layla, you've got me on my knees

-Eric Clapton

Merry Christmas, Charles Carson.

Merry Christmas, Elsie Hughes.

"Something is different about you," Beryl commented as she paced around the room, piling dishes into the sink and putting cellophane wrap over the uneaten food.

Elsie was leaning up against the small table that was placed in the corner of the kitchen as she watched her friend muddle about the room in organized chaos. Her lipstick had faded and her hair had begun to lose its tightness. It was nearing the end of the Christmas party and the guests had slowly begun to fade away, leaving only a handful of Beryl's closest friends to survey the mess they had made.

Although she was tired, Elsie still had a certain buzz about her. Her eyes twinkled and her face seemed just a tad bit brighter and flushed. Beryl finished loading the dish washer and turned to look at the woman in green. Really look at her. She noticed Elsie's disheveled appearance and the way her arms shook, as if it were painful to keep her body upright. Her eyes were crinkled and her mouth was upturned in an almost playful way.

"Right," Beryl banged the heel of her palm on the counter and ceremoniously dropped the wet rag she was using on the table, "What's going on? You look like the cat that got the cream." Elsie had been shaken with the forcefulness of the woman's actions as well as the gaze that was traveling upon her body. She smoothed the wrinkled dress around her hips and brought her head at level with her friend.

"You wouldn't believe me." Elsie replied with a smirk and a slight slur of speech.

"Try me."

"You'll say I'm being stupid."

"Maybe you are?" Beryl said with a shrug and traveled to sit down with Elsie at the small table. "It's not… Well, it's not what we thought it was a couple years back, is it?"

Elsie just scoffed and sat down in one of the wooden chairs, brushing aside the bottom of her dress to remove her heels.

"It's nothing so morbid as that."

Beryl released a steady breath and gave a nod for Elsie to continue.

"Do you remember, a couple weeks ago – well almost a month now – when you told me that maybe I should engage in a certain arrangement?" Elsie had placed the shoes on the floor and currently sat slack with her hands clasped together on her lap in front of her. Her lips were swollen from the incessant tug from her teeth and her cheeks flushed with the memories of her and Charles as well as the excess amount of alcohol in her system. She could see Beryl's brow furrow in confusion and she could tell that she had peaked the interest of the cook.

"What arrangement? When did I tell you this?"

"In late November, I think? We were sloshed on that cheap wine you were gifted as a thank you for that gala you catered. Remember?" Frustration seemed to pass over Elsie as she noticed that Beryl had still not grasped the subject, or even recollect the words she spoke to her that night.

"Not much, to be quite frank. Was it poor advice?"

"Hardly." Elsie gave a weak laugh and brushed the lock of hair that had fallen around her face. It had grazed her cheek and gave her a warm flash of an image of Charles cupping her cheek as he kissed her neck. She smiled at this and shut her eyes to try and remember the moment.

"Well whatever I said must have pleased you. I haven't seen you this giddy since we saw the Stones perform in ninety-nine." At this comment Elsie rolled her eyes.

"I don't know if I'm that happy." They both laughed and shared a knowing look.

"Well, go on, girl. What is it?"

Elsie sat in the wooden chair in Beryl Patmore's extravagant kitchen and contemplated if she should reveal all her troubles. Would it ruin the magic of it all? Will Beryl laugh at her? Tell her that she was being daft? Perhaps this whole situation she had put herself in with Charles was just a joke. A small part of a comedic act that was never meant to take seriously.

Scottish Dragon - they would mutter under their breath as she passed by. She was nothing but an empty shell, an unfeeling and severe woman. Elsie knew that it wasn't true. She felt and breathed and loved – she loved and she needed love to survive.

She inhaled deeply and stared out the fogged window above the sink, watching the snow fall and land on the windowsill. As she exhaled she turned her body to face her friend head-on.

Charles and I are having sex.

He sat at his desk with a fountain pen in his hand, scribbling at the ideas that surrounded him. More recently in his dreams he had seen a woman in black. As he sat tapping the pen against the wooden desk he tried to picture her but all he could remember was the back of her dress and the faint sound of jingling keys. Charles looked up from his scratchy handwriting and gazed outside to the snow fall, perfect weather for this Christmas Eve. The light shifted and he saw his reflection in the mirror.

He was drained emotionally and physically.

His eyes didn't shine like they used to and his tiredness was represented through the purple, almost black, circles under his eyes. At this unsightly picture of himself he shut the curtains in front of him and collapsed in his chair with grunt. He rubbed his weary eyes with the palms of his hands and dragged his fingers over his face heavily.

Ever since the beginning of their arrangement Charles had suffered a severe case of writer's block. Although in others eyes having a lovely woman warming his bed and giving him everything he wanted sexually would be a god send miracle, he found it to be troubling and not at all what he thought it was going to be from the beginning. He felt as if there was heavy presence surrounding him every time they laid with one another, a pressure that was building up among them that was ready to erupt at any moment. With all these emotions surrounding him and all the time he had spent with Elsie lately it has been hard for him to produce even an acceptable sentence for him to send to his editor.

Charles felt as if this woman in black and the jingling keys was a sign. Or rather, a representation of something that he had yet to uncover.

All of his dreams started off with the same vision, a house – or rather a castle - something out of one of his old history books he would have reckoned. It was grand and had too many windows to count, a vast expanse of yard in front of it and a dirt road connecting it to the rest of the world. With a flash he found himself walking behind her, she seemed so familiar to him. He felt the urge to call out to her, to say her name that was just on the tip of his tongue but he never reached that part of the dream.

It wasn't really a dream, was it? Just a mere vision.

His life was haunted by two women, both of whom seemed just out of reach to him.

He rose from his position in front of his desk, cracking his neck as he pushed through the door to the other side of the house. There, upon his couch, slept the woman who tormented him more than any ghost in a dream ever could.

Elsie.

"Lovely party, isn't it?" The petite woman grazed Elsie's arm and handed her another glass of spiced cider.

"Oh, Anna," Elsie smiled and accepted the woman's offer. Elsie noticed that Anna's belly had grown significantly since the last time she had seen her. "Look at you, lass! It's not twins is it?" She rested her hand against the round tummy and gave Anna a sweet smile.

"Good Lord, I hope not. William is a handful enough as it is, I couldn't imagine another two. I would have to grow several more appendages to keep up with them all." Anna took Elsie's hand that was placed upon her stomach and gave it a warm squeeze. "It's so good to see you, Mrs. Hughes."

They both smiled brightly at one another. Elsie sat down her glass and embraced Anna warmly, almost motherly.

"Oh!" Elsie jumped back from their hug at the hard kick that was aimed at her abdomen. "I think the lad will be a right good boxer when he is grown." They both chuckled at this and claimed their drinks again. "A great bear of a man, like his father you reckon?"

"Actually I was hoping that she would favor my looks instead." Anna sipped the glass of non-alcoholic apple cider and gave Elsie a sheepish glance.

"She?" Elsie exclaimed which made Anna furiously nod her head. "Oh, Anna!" She set down her glass again and hugged tightly, practically jumping with excitement. Tears sprung to her eyes as she envisioned a wee lass with Anna's eyes and John's dark hair.

Anna had been Elsie's assistant for years before Mary Crawley had taken a shine to her and demanded that she be transferred upstairs to become her 'right-hand woman'. Elsie scoffed every time she thought of it. She had barely seen Anna since she had switched positions, last time they had spoken was in the late summer when Anna had found out she was pregnant with John and hers second child.

"Mrs. Hughes," Anna began again as she pulled herself from Elsie's embrace. "John and I were talking recently, about the baby, and well – we would like you to be this little lady's godmother." Elsie's eyes grew wide and she laughed with merriment. She was so in-explicitly happy for Anna and John and she was even more thrilled that they had thought to ask her to be a part of the child's life, permanently.

"I would be thrilled, Anna." She felt tears prickle and hastily wiped them away, in fear of messing up her makeup. Elsie grabbed a napkin from the table and pressed them against the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so happy you've agreed. You were the only one we have been thinking of since we had William but, you know John and his family. If we hadn't have picked his sister for William's godmother we would have been shunned from all of the Bates'." Anna said hastily with a worried expression marking her face.

"I perfectly understand, love; you need not worry about my feeling being hurt with William. I'm just glad you even thought of me at all!" Elsie laughed again and beamed a bright smile for the rest of their conversation. They talked mainly about the baby but Anna kept on diverting the subject to Elsie and her happiness as of this year. Elsie would reply with a sigh and a nod of her head saying that she really was fine and that Anna should not worry so much about her.

Anna excused herself and said that she had to use the loo, giving Elsie the perfect chance to slide over to Charles who was leaning up against one of the walls with John Bates. They looked like two outcasts compared to the dancing and chatty couples.

"Congratulations, Bates!" She grasped his forearm in her right hand gave him a wide smile. "A wee lass and to think you asked me to be her godmother." She saw out of the corner of her eyes Charles eyebrows raise but he gazed back at his feet in case she noticed his discomfort.

"We would only ever ask you, Elsie." At the informality of John using her name Charles seemed to stiffen but said not a word. His posture slackened as he gave John and weak smile in regards to the news of Elsie being the godmother to his child. He disapproved greatly of Elsie's close relationship with the Bates', as it was unheard of for the boss to be in such close regards with her employees. It was the 21st century and the man still had the concept of regality when it came to the work place, a concept he must have grasped from his years studying the aristocracy in his history textbooks.

John's expression changed abruptly as he saw his wife return.

"We must be going." Anna muttered as she clasped John's hand within her own.

"So soon?" Elsie said with a frown. "The party is only just beginning to start!"

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, Mrs. Hughes. We've got a full day planned with William and my feet are a tad too sore for me to gallivant among this lovely crowd." Anna looked down at her swollen ankles and made their excuses one last time before her and John headed towards the door, leaving Charles and Elsie to their own demise. Elsie leaned up against the wall, close enough to Charles that their arms were smushed together. Her gaze still laid upon Anna as John helped slide his wife into her coat, buttoning up the bottom of it where he knew she could not reach over her stomach. She sighed and looked at Charles whose eyes were also locked on the couple but in a less affectionate manner. He looked almost confused at their public display of affection.

"They're in love, Charlie. They aren't an exhibit at a zoo." Elsie folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "You're such an old curmudgeon." He looked upon her with the same look of confusion.

"He missed a button." He waved a hand at the couple who were laughing at John's mistake as he buttoned her coat for the second time. "They make a lovely pair." He mumbled and finished off his drink with a flourish. Charles moved his body sideways in front of Elsie to drop his glass on the table to her left, the closeness of him jolted her nerves. She bit her lip and went to tidy her already perfect hair.

"I'm sorry. I thought… Well I thought –" Elsie muttered as she realized she had just scolded her friend for no reason.

"I know what you thought." He looked out among the crowd with a sad look on his face, his hands stuffed in his suit pocket. "You think I'm a Grinch. A Scrooge. My heart is two sizes too small. That's what you think, Elsie." She shook her head and moved her body to stand in front of him, forcing him to look upon her face.

"I would never think such a thing, Charlie!" He did not meet her eye and she could tell that his teeth were clenched in anger. She took his hands within hers and kissed the center of each of his palms, easing him back from the obvious hurt she had inflicted on him. His demeanor softened and he nodded his head in defeat. Elsie slid her fingers under his chin and forced him to lock eyes with her. Her hand cupped his chin and she said confidently, "You're my curmudgeon, and that makes all the difference."

She stood on the tips of her toes and placed a sweet kiss to his left cheek. He placed a hand at her waist to steady her and when he was sure she was about to return back to her standing position she whispered something in his ear.

"I'm going to go to the loo, upstairs, third door on the right. Meet me there in 5 minutes." She kissed his cheek again and gave him a knowing look as she grounded herself on the floor. Looking around to make sure no one had noticed the brief encounter between them, she waltzed away towards the grand staircase and proceeded up the stairs away from the crowd and away from the noise. Charles flushed deeply and licked his lips in anticipation.

This could not be happening.

"What took you so long?" She said as she pulled him into the large marble bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

"Richard." He mumbled as he pulled her body even more flushed against him, she had managed to remove the tie around his neck and was trailing soft kisses down his exposed flesh. He heard her mumble something about if anyone had seen him and he shook his head and looked up to the ceiling as she finished unbuttoning his shirt. He carelessly removed his jacket and his shirt tossing them on the plush rug beneath their feet.

"God, I need you." She said in heavy breath as she began undoing his belt and unfastening his trousers. His hands were grasping her forearms to steady himself as he gazed upon her hands as they removed his clothes. Her hands had managed their way to the front of his pants where she cupped him firmly, feeling him harden even further beneath her touch. He gulped down a moan and she smirked with an air of dominance surrounding her.

"Lock the door, Mr. Carson."

His eyes fluttered and his hand flailed behind him as he tried to locate the door handle. Successfully it clicked and she grinned as the man in front of her closed his eyes tightly, the feeling of her hand upon him becoming increasingly too much to bear. She loved the feeling of having control, that this man was wrapped around her finger like a string. Her palm rubbed gently against his member and he groaned her name. She slid her manicured fingers into his pants and grasped him fully in her hands.

"Els – Elsie." His voice shook at her boldness. She had never done anything like this before and here they were, in Beryl's grand house with her hands around his throbbing cock and all he could think about is how wrong it was that they were doing this now.

Her eyes gleamed with lust and a hint of mischief. She removed her hands from him and hiked up her skirt just long enough so she could lower her body to the floor, the dress pooling around her knees. She looked into his eyes and positioned herself so her back was tall and taunt. She placed her hands on his hip, her thumbs hooking back into his pants, ready to remove.

"What do you want, Charlie?" She whispered as she placed a kiss on his lower abdomen. He gasped and threaded his fingers into her tight locks. Elsie hummed and placed another kiss near her left hand on his right hip and again on his left. He couldn't believe that this woman was before him, on her knees. Her lips were plump and her eyes were nearly black with the amount of desire that flooded them. His brows furrowed in a mix of pleasure and pain.

"Elsie," He said more confidently this time, her eyes softening at his change of manner. "You don't have to." She bit her lip and her hands grasped his hips more tightly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants. Elsie parted her mouth as if she were going to speak but merely stared at the ever growing bulge in front of her. She wet her lips and looked up at the man before her.

"I want to." She whispered. His face stayed in the same shape of concern as she licked her lips once more, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth. "Does that make me vulgar?"

Elsie had never wanted to make Charles uncomfortable. But seeing as he was half naked in a strange bathroom with who knows how many people just below them, she could as to why he would be uneasy.

Of course he was uncomfortable! He must be embarrassed and shocked and ill-at-ease and everything in between. She was on her knees ready to take him into her mouth without any quarrels and here he was, shaken to the core with her boldness. Her hands traveled from his hips to his thighs, she hung her head low and mumbled an apology.

"Elsie, you could have your wicked way with me on the kitchen counter in front of all those guests and I wouldn't bat an eye against it." She looked up at him again, her eyes still shined with a hint of merriment. "I don't want you to think you have to reciprocate. If this –" He nodded his head at his now semi-hard member. "Makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to."

With this knowledge she grew bolder than before and tugged his pants and trousers to the floor next to her dress.

I want you.

"You're joking." Beryl said, dumbfounded at her friend.

"I'm not." Elsie shook her head which was blurry with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. Her head was spinning but it kept telling her to tell all and leave nothing out.

"Elsie, I think you are tad tipsy, love. You're making no sense." Beryl stood to get Elsie a cup of tea, to soothe her shaky hands and voice.

"Perhaps." Elsie's eyes were still glassy with the effects of the spiced cider. Her thoughts were everywhere at the moment, trying to remember everything from tonight. Such excitement in such little time.

Before Beryl could speak again, the kitchen door swung open.

"Bill is seeing the last guests out, Beryl." Charles said as he walked over to Elsie who was hunched in her chair, staring at her clasped hands in her lap. "You ready to go, Els?" He mumbled to her as he picked up her heels from the floor. She merely shrugged and continued to gaze at her fingers in a trance.

"What's wrong?" He turned to Beryl who had the same look of confusion on her face as Charlie did. They were both staring at Elsie who had barely budged from her seat, let alone said a word. She could feel them gape at her in concern so she began to rise from her position.

"Nothing –" She wobbled a bit, and Charles caught her around the waist. "Nothing is wrong." Elsie pulled from his embrace and fixed her wrinkled dress, straightening her back in defiance to her friend's behavior towards her. "I'm not a child." She walked somewhat steadily towards the door and Charles followed. Beryl scurried right after them.

"Elsie, love, put on your shoes." Beryl said as they stopped at the front door, where Bill was just shutting it behind the last of the guests.

"What's going on?" Bill said as he looked at the crowd that had trailed behind Elsie.

"Nothing." Elsie said irritably and motioned for Charles to hand her the shoes. He stood beside her as she grasped his arm and steadied herself while she put on the heels. Once on she gathered her posture once more.

"Righto." Bill said, rubbing the back of his neck and moving aside to let Elsie reach for her coat. She slid it on and mumbled a curse as it got stuck behind her back, her arm trying to reach for the fallen sleeve. Charles promptly stepped behind her to grab the sleeve and allow her to slip her arm through it. He could tell that her hands were a bit shaky so he waited to see if she could manage the front on her own.

After attempting one button a few times he offered to help. She sighed and nodded her head for him to help you, images of Anna and John in the same position not too long ago. He crouched low enough so he could align the bottom of her coat's buttons with the appropriate hole and traveled up slowly so that he made sure all of them were in their proper place. He took the woolen belt that was attached to the coat and tied it around her waist securely.

Charles proceeded to put his coat on as well as the scarf he brought with him.

"Thank you for inviting us, Beryl." He pecked her sweetly on the cheek and shook Bill's hand which was extended for him. "It's been an eventful evening."

"I'll say." Elsie muttered under her breath, fiddling with the tie he just knotted in front of her. Her cheeks were still flushed and she was beginning to feel a little woozy.

"Yes." Charles said as he opened the front door, ushering Elsie outside into the frigid air. "Merry Christmas." He gave the couple a small smile and followed Elsie who was already standing beside his car, waiting for him to unlock it so she could get in.

Nothing, indeed.

They drove in silence, the air around them was thick with tension.

Charles would occasionally glance at Elsie when they stopped at a red light but her eyes were focused on the falling snow outside.

"Did you have a good time?" He muttered as he adjusted his position in the driver's seat.

"It was alright." Elsie said with a little shrug of her shoulders. "The food was delicious."

"As it always is." Charles stared at the red light above them and waited patiently for it to change colors. They were once again smothered in silence, with only the sound of the windshield wipers brushing away the snow to reassure them that they had not gone deaf.

"Have I done something to upset you, Els?" He questioned finally, when it became clear to him that there would be no point in dragging out the silence. Elsie turned to look upon him for the first time since they settled in the car.

"I'm just tired, Charlie." She muttered with a shake of her head and a heavy sigh. "I might have had a bit too much of that cider. My mind is just spinning like a carousel."

He looked at the dashboards clock, which had read 12:46.

"It's Christmas Eve, now." He pointed out to her. "If you weren't sloshed on Christmas Eve I wouldn't know if you were really Elsie Hughes." She giggled and smiled widely at him. He was glad that he finally got some kind of reaction out of her. As soon as the smile as appear it just as easily faded from her.

"I don't want to go home." She mumbled as he eased through the green light. She noticed his brows furrow and he shook his head.

"My dear, you never have to leave my flat if you do not wish to. You're a welcome guest and a good friend and I should never wish you to spend Christmas alone." He glanced in her direction once again to see the tears welling up in her eyes, and the sweet smile that was upon her face in adoration of his response. She bit her lip and stared out once again at the falling snow.

"Charlie?"

"Yes, Els?"

"You're my best friend."

"And you mine."

She gave a hearty laugh and grasped his lone hand in the middle of them to give it a good squeeze. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, equally immersed in their own thoughts. Elsie tugged again at her lips with thoughts of Charlie running through her head, and how thankful she was that she found comfort in him this past year. She was so lucky to have him as her friend.

Charles sat staring at the dark, empty road ahead and continued to contemplate what had happened this night, and how topsy-turvy Elsie's emotions had been. Sometimes he wondered if she thought him to be an old fool, a man that lived alone and did nothing but complain about the world around him. Maybe he really was just an old Scrooge? Maybe he never deserved a woman like her in his life?

She quickly turned her head and removed her hand from his to fiddle with the radio.

"I wonder if there are any stations that aren't playing ruddy Christmas music." Her expression showed disgust as she flipped through the channels, trying to find something that didn't involve 'holly' and 'joy'. All wonderful things, mind you but they have been playing the same songs for a good month and a half and she was tired of it.

"I think I have something in the CD player that you might enjoy." He gestured his head toward the console as he made a slow right turn.

Her fingers continued to mess with his radio and she muttered a few curses of annoyance when she couldn't find the proper button. Charles finally pressed the correct one and Elsie mutter something about how 'she would have found it eventually'.

The first few twangs of the guitar and rumble of applause made Elsie smile wide and chuckle.

"Ah, Clapton. A man of my heart." Her smile was contagious. "This is one of my favorite songs, you know? Poor man. Pattie Boyd wrecked his soul." She shook her head and mumbled the lyrics.

"He was a drunk, Elsie."

"Doesn't matter." She practically shouted. "Stand by your man. That is what I was taught." At this remark, Charles scoffed and shook his head.

"Anyways," She began again. "You should never leave a Yorkshire man. Strong-willed they are. Sturdy too."

"He's from Surrey." He said with a great bellow of a laugh.

"Charlie, he's from Yorkshire!" She said with a frown. "Don't tell me I'm wrong."

"I'm sorry, dear." He smiled again and licked his lips. "You're quite feisty when you're drunk, you know."

"You're making it hard to love you, Charles." She said with a distant voice. His brows raised high but in his head and in his heart, he knew she wouldn't remember much and her words should be taken lightly.

"January, 1990" He said.

"What?"

"We saw Clapton in January of 1990. You had long hair back then and wore this skimpy outfit, much too little clothing for the middle January." Her expression grew blank as she listened to him retell the tale.

"I was the only one who had a car, you were –" His eyes squinted as he tried to recall. "You were 28, about to turn 29 and I was far too old to be hanging around you lot. So was Alice." His expression grew dim and they sat in silence for a while.

"Anyways, we drove all the way from downtown London to Birmingham in the freezing cold. The heater in the car was – well I wouldn't call it broken but it barely sputtered out enough heat for any of us. And I remembered she complained the whole way there, and you and Joe were snuggled in the back, trying to conserve warmth for the few hours we were in the silly car." He took a breath and continued. "We got to the venue on time and took our seats; Alice, me, you and Joe, in that order we sat. Joe was the beer boy –" She chuckled at his wording and gave his arm a weak slap, shaking her head in dismay.

"Well he was!" He chuckled with her and grinned at her flushed face. "I couldn't drink because I had to get us home somehow, right? And when Joe had asked you what you wanted you merely said 'I think I'll stick with Charlie tonight and not drink a lick', we were all astonished by this because we had all thought you would be under the table by the end of the night. But when he and Alice left to get their drinks you said to me 'I would never leave you alone with them, pissed off their arses'"

"I did not!" She screeched in delight and began to laugh whole-heartedly.

"But you did," He continued with an air of delight around them. "And I was forever grateful for you. I still am." She caught his gaze again and she felt something in the pit of her stomach begin to swell.

"Well, Clapton began to strum Layla and I thought you were about to melt with how excited you were. I could have sworn you had tears in your eyes. You have a lovely singing voice you know? That was the first time I think I had heard it. And it was magical." He was babbling now. "I didn't even gaze in his direction, I just remember you clutching the railing in that little tight top of yours." He inhaled deeply at this. "You were so beautiful, your hair was down to the middle of your back, rich like wine, waves cascaded down like a sweet waterfall. Joe was a lucky man, Elsie." Charles clutched the steering wheel and his knuckled began to turn white. He shook his head again and sighed.

"Please go on. I like it when you say sweet things about me." Her voice was lusty and heavy. Elsie had managed to turn her body so it faced his own, her attention solely on his story. She was immersed in the way he strung his words together, ever the writer was he.

"Alright," He loosened his grip on the wheel and cleared his throat. "By the end, Alice was the one under the table and not you. I carried her all the way from the venue to the car, she babbled on and on, I could hardly understand her. Joe was around the same block as her, he leaned against you the whole way to the car. His voice was loud and you could smell the beer that was on his breath, you smiled at this. I think you thought it to be quite funny, I found it to be obnoxious, obviously –"

"Obviously." She muttered.

"Yes. We placed them both in the back, Alice had slumped her head on Joe's shoulder and he had sprawled his arms across the back of the seat, head lolling until they both had fallen asleep. You were still sober, and beaming from the aftermath of the concert. You were so happy." He smiled at the memory of the young Hughes, small and ready to take on the world. "We talked about Clapton for a while, and about 45 minutes into the drive you had scooted closer to me, snuggling into my side. You yawned and had asked me if it was all right if you laid like that. My heart was in my throat, I thought I was going to choke. I just nodded like a fool and wrapped you in my embrace, your thin body was cold so I had placed my jacket around you. You thanked me and fell right to sleep." He finished he story and pulled into his driveway, and they both looked at his flat.

"Why were you so nice to me?" Elsie questioned softly. Her expression was one for the books, he couldn't decipher between her confusion or the obvious warmth she held for him in his heart. She was still a little woozy from the punch she had consumed and he could tell her head was foggy.

"Because you were my friend." He said and helped her remove the seat belt that entrapped her body. "And I loved you, very much." She took his hands within her own.

"Why did you never say anything about it before?"

"I never wanted to cause you any pain." Charles continued to fiddle with his car, trying to mask his nervousness. He shut off the vehicle and took his own seat belt off. He then turned to her to see her expression again, he could see tears within her eyes.

"Come now, little one. Don't shed those tears." He wiped them as they fell.

"I'm sorry." She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms, "This damned punch has made me a tad bit moody." He smiled and opened the car door, rounding to her side, and opening it for her. He noticed that the snow had become far too high for her to reach the door in her heels.

"Right," He crouched to slide his hands under her bottom and knees to carry her. "I'm going to have to carry you, so your toes don't freeze." She clutched the back of his neck and let him lift her from the front seat, minding her head so he didn't bump it. His foot shut the door with a loud thud and he traveled through his front law to reach his door where he placed her lightly on the brick stoop.

Charles took out of his keys from his coat pocket and began to search for the correct one. He felt Elsie stand behind him and bury her head in the back of his woolen coat, her hands attempting to snake around his wide middle.

"I like it when you call me little one." She muttered rubbing her face into him, snuggling deeper into him; like the January night so long ago. Elsie felt him chuckle deeply and heard the click of the door open.

Come now, little one. Time for bed.

Elsie traveled to his living room and flopped on his couch with a loud moan.

"I love this couch." She said as she situated herself deeper into the depths of his sofa. Charles surveyed her body, warm and cozy in his flat.

"Let me get you something to sleep in." He said as he pushed open his bedroom door. She had entered his house quickly, in search of some place to lie and had forgotten to remove her coat and shoes. No matter. He would help her.

He pulled out a grey woolen jumper and a pair of matching socks. Charles entered the room to see Elsie dozing on the couch her legs near her chest, like a small child, and her arms curled near her breasts.

"Els?" He sat down next to the small space by her hip, placing a hand on her waist to rouse her.

"Not tonight, Charlie." She mumbled and cozied herself into the couch even more.

"Sit up, my love. Let me help you get undressed." He rose himself and held the jumper in the air to show her what he meant.

"Dirty." She giggled, slowly rising herself from her position on the couch to give Charles some room to maneuver.

He knelt on the plush carpet, hearing his bones crack in the process. He winced and began with her coat, untying the knot at the front of her waist and proceeding to unbutton it. Charles did this act with leisure, afraid that if he did so with haste he might disturb her. Once fully removed he placed the coat on the back of the couch.

He then moved to her stockings.

The palm of his hand slithered up her calves like a snake, making her mumble and moan. She shivered and gave a sleepy smile. Once he reached the clasp he flicked it open with ease, rolling the stocking down at a slow but sensual pace. And again, with the other one. He had somehow forgotten about her heels completely and flushed at the awkwardness of the situation.

Elsie didn't mind though.

Her eyes opened slowly as she felt his thick fingers fumble with the clasp of her heels. Elsie lent down to help him but did so a bit too quickly and their heads clunked together. She giggled rubbing her forehead while Charles began to apologize with haste. She brushed the one stray curl from his face and said in a sweet voice that there was nothing to apologize for.

Charles gazed upon her face as she knelt over to remove her shoes and stockings. Her eyes were still misty from the tears she had shed and her face was still quite red. He had hoped it was because his attentions to her body and not from the residual alcohol.

Elsie rose above him, her body leaving the couch entirely as she held her hand out to his to help him rise from the uncomfortable position. Once he stood tall in front of her she turned her back to him so he could manage with the zipper of her dress. They were so close, smushed between the coffee table and the couch and his body was practically pressed against her. She felt him, rather than heard him, inhale sharply as he reached for the dress.

Unlike when he had zipped her up for the party, there was no awkwardness. No regrets or speculations. No thoughts of Joe.

Just pure and utter love.

She wet her lips and twirled a rogue curl with her fingers. He slowly began to descend the zipper, his hands shaking with the feelings that flooded his mind.

Ecstasy. Happiness. Love.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. The front of the dress began to fall and he pushed it from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her head hung low as she felt his intense gaze upon her body; a shiver and a flush followed. Charles felt his hand rise, unconsciously, to the top of her spine. He touched lightly and followed the bumps one by one to the middle of her back, her gasp was more of a breathy and uneven inhale. He placed both of his hands against the small of her back and pressed softly as he traveled back up her spine, touching as much skin as he could. His fingers encountered the thin, translucent strap that must have been connected somehow to her bra.

"How do I –" She turned to face him, the black bra stood out like the dark of the night by the moon. Her skin was so pale and freckled.

Perfection.

Elsie took his hands and place them upon her breasts. The bra was a lighter material than the rest of her undergarments, practically translucent. He could see the outline of her dark nipples, taut and ready for him to release them from their confinements.

"There is a clasp, right here." She pointed to the valley of her breasts where the silver clasp was visible. His skilled fingers popped it open with ease, pushing the material from her. It fell to the floor silently. He couldn't help but place her breasts within his hands, softly caressing them at an agonizingly slow pace. She moaned and clutched his elbows, encouraging him to come closer.

Charles let go of her breasts and traveled his hands down to her waist, where he clutched her swaying body. Her eyes were shut tightly, as if trying to hang on to the pleasure that coursed through her body.

"I think it's time for bed, my love." He mumbled, his eyes never leaving her face. She moaned and clutched the lapels of his suit, which he still hadn't removed. Elsie buried her head into his chest and he clutched her near naked body to him. He felt her huff in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Charles muttered into her hair. He would never take advantage of her in such a state and he could not bear it if she woke up in the morning feeling used and mistreated. She nodded her head and met his gaze with a sad smile.

He reached for the jumper and helped her slide it over her head. Charles cupped her cheek endearingly and muttered again an apology. She just shook her head and smiled. Elsie went to remove the pins from her head but he told her to turn around again. Slowly he removed each one with ease.

The last pin fell to the floor, lost among the pile of her clothes and he laid the rest on the table. He ran his fingers through her locks to make sure he hadn't left any. Elsie began to lower her body to the welcoming couch, exhaustion evident on her face.

"Thank you." She muttered while he put the socks on her feet and placing the fleece throw over her body.

He left momentarily to bring her a glass of water and a few capsules of pain relief, to ease her hangover in the morning. He sat by her body and helped her with the glass and pills, her hands shaking from his previous touches. Once the glass was placed on a coaster nearest to her body he turned and saw her lay her head on one of the plush cushions that was on the couch.

Elsie reached for his hand and they sat there for a few minutes until her eyes shut involuntarily. He began to rise when he heard her whisper faintly.

Merry Christmas, Charles Carson.

Merry Christmas, Elsie Hughes.

Was this chapter excessive or what? My words count is at 7,700 right now and I'm shocked. I hope this will make up for the lost time and I would appreciate any feedback I can get! Thank you for hanging in there with me and expect the new chapter very soon.