The horseshoe-shaped puddles on the path had frozen over, and Jimmy made sure each and every icy patch cracked under his soles. It was childish maybe, but he was alone. He sniffed the cold air so deep his nostrils hurt. He loved the scent of pines in the garden. It reminded him of summers as a little boy. It was basically all he remembered as well. Running around in the woods mindlessly, the smell of pine sap, and his burned nose in the evening. His nose wouldn't burn today. He'd sooner lose it to frostbite.

Jimmy walked slowly, without a real destination. He got a half day off, Thomas did not. It was alright though. He needed some time to think. For the last couple of days, he was afraid he'd done something wrong being so intemperate. Thomas hadn't mentioned the whole thing, not even one word. He'd just wanted to break the ice, and still thought he'd done so successfully. After all, Thomas wasn't distant. He was just- the same.

Jimmy let the ice crunch under his feet some more. He enjoyed just walking around on the estate for a while, with no real purpose. Thomas preferred things to have a reason. He always needed to know where they were going. How long it would take them, what they would do there. Jimmy found he was going to the Drewe farm, apparently. He could see the pig pen, but there were no pigs in it. They'd have been pig icicles by now. Jimmy grinned at his own dumb joke and took off his cap. Someone would be home, and they'd surely have a cup of tea for him. The pale brick walls seemed impossibly old. He knocked on the equally old door. It took a while before there was any sound inside, but then the door opened and he stared into Mr Drewe's smiling face.

"Jimmy," he beamed, not surprised at all. People on the estate were familiar with Jimmy's wanderings. The Drewes were probably the most familiar with them, since the way to their farm was the easiest to remember. Jimmy had made it a sort of hobby to visit all the farms and lodgings at least once since he came to the house. He wouldn't admit it to many people, but he was quite proud to be working at 'the big house'. And people always seemed pleased to have him over. "Come in, you must be freezing." He made way and let Jimmy walk past him. The warmth that hung under the low ceiling immediately enveloped him.

He walked into the living room, and took off his coat, hanging it on the back of a chair.

"Fancy a cup of tea?"

Jimmy nodded. The cup of tea was in front of his nose faster than would ever be possible at the abbey. Drewe's kettle was always on the stove, and there were no frills attached. He was only offered sugar, as he preferred.

"Haven't seen you in a while, the kids will be disappointed they've missed your visit," Timothy started. It struck Jimmy that it had been a while. His unwilling walking partner could be blamed for that. It was a pity that the kids weren't there, Jimmy enjoyed showing them card tricks. He looked around. The place was warm and tidy. He wouldn't mind living in a place like this on the estate some time. Maybe not alone though.

"Thomas-" he blurted. He felt his ears burn. They were probably red anyways. "It's eh- Mr Barrow. We take walks together lately, and he prefers going into the village for a drink," Jimmy blabbered.

"Mr Barrow," the other man repeated, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Not the most pleasant fellow," he commented. Jimmy took a big gulp of his tea, scalding his tongue.

"Ah, it's- he's something else, yeah," Jimmy then decided. He broke into a bright smile that seemed to puzzle Mr Drewe. Then he just shook his head.

"How is little Sybil?" Jimmy was relatively new to the house, and it had taken him a while to understand how respected the family was. In a way, all the people on the estate were extended family. Jimmy never really knew Sybil, but the way they all adored Sybbie said enough about her impeccable reputation.

"Oh, she's a breath of fresh air. Walking, talking, messing with everyone. She loves her little cousin too. Poor bugger," Jimmy replied, noticing how he saw them as family too, like they were his little cousins. He swallowed that thought though. He could get fired or leave, and neither of them would blink an eye.

"I'm sure they love their uncle Jimmy just as much," he assured, apparently intercepting Jimmy's uncertainty. Mr Drewe smiled softly.

An hour later, he was home again. Jimmy had taken his chair into the kitchen, and watched Mrs Patmore prepare dinner. The chair was an obligation; Mrs Patmore no longer wanted him standing over the pots, sticking his fingers in to taste. He'd been distracting Ivy as well, apparently. He sat at the big central table as Daisy cut leeks. She was complaining about summer vegetables and fruits. Jimmy hadn't given it much thought. He usually ate what he was given. At the moment, it was a chunk of black chocolate. Daisy had broken it off a big table she was melting for the chocolate mousse. She'd slipped it to Jimmy to keep him quiet, and it had worked exceptionally well. Not only was his mouth full, the warm taste was slowly lulling him as well.

The thick piece of chocolate had been more than a mouthful, but he'd had to make it disappear quickly. It sat on his tongue, melting slowly. Sometimes he nodded at Daisy, to show he was still listening. She went on about rhubarb and raspberries, and how she craved a crumble. Jimmy nodded again. He liked crumble.

"Jimmy, what's your favourite vegetable?" Daisy's head cocked to the side as she leaned her hand on the table for a moment.

"I like carrots and peas," Jimmy said without thinking too much. The chocolate sat in his cheek until he closed his mouth again. A cackle came from Mrs Patmore. "Wha-?"

"Oh, nothing, Jimmy. I just like simple tastes, is all." She looked over her shoulder for a moment and raised an eyebrow. "What are you eating?"

"It fell on the floor, Mrs Patmore," Daisy interrupted.

Jimmy swallowed what was left over from the chocolate. His mouth was still coated with a bittersweet layer.

"What's wrong with peas and carrots?" Especially Mrs Patmore's peas and carrots were buttery and sweet, and the peas always had a nice snap.

"Nothing, Jimmy," Mrs Patmore repeated. "If only upstairs had your taste, I could put my feet up more often," she laughed. Daisy joined in. Ivy was still whipping eggs, seemingly distracted.

"Talking about taste, what's with you and Mr Barrow all of a sudden?" She looked up. There was a silence from the other two women in the room.

"It's not all of a sudden," Jimmy started. He willed his blood to stay away from his cheeks. It always seemed to rush places it wasn't supposed to when someone mentioned Thomas.

"Thomas is not a bad lad, Ivy," Mrs Patmore mediated. Jimmy smiled.

"He's not very nice to me," Ivy countered.

"Well, are you very nice to him?" It was the first time Mrs Patmore actually stopped what she was doing and turned to Ivy, making clear she was having none of it. Ivy went back to whisking her eggs. They'd turned into a white mass by now.

"He's an odd one," she added under her breath.

No one reacted. In Ivy's world, everything was very black and white. Jimmy was glad to find out there were people with more colourful minds.

Jimmy stared at his hand of cards. They hardly ever played for money anymore, mainly because Carson thought it was below them. That didn't mean Jimmy could just let Thomas win though. They usually played alone now. Only Anna would sometimes join in for a hand. Jimmy almost disliked how she could be so good, through and through. She didn't care if she won. She didn't boast when she did, didn't sulk when she didn't. Half of the time she didn't even play right, but no one had the heart to tell her. Jimmy looked at the table and the cards Thomas had just put down. Jimmy flung his own after them. Thomas grinned, packed them all together again and shuffled. Jimmy tapped the ash from his cigarette.

"One more hand, then we're going," Anna announced. She had her right hand on the table, her left rested in Bates' palm. It seemed unfair that they could do that, and Jimmy wasn't even allowed to touch the scar on the back of Thomas' hand. He needed it more than they did. But Anna was nice to Thomas, and Bates was too if she was around. Jimmy cast his eyes down when he realised he'd been staring at the Bates' intertwined fingers. He scooped up the cards that had been dealt and watched as Thomas lit another cigarette.

"Losers first," Thomas then muttered between closed lips. Jimmy sighed and shook his head.

Mr Bates looked up from his newspaper every now and then, and seemed to keep an eye on them- on him. Anna was an angel, and everyone downstairs (and probably upstairs) knew Thomas didn't exactly pose a threat. So all that was left was Jimmy. He peered at his cards, trying to make sense of the colours and shapes. He was losing again, only because Bates was so damn distracting. Anna wasn't even his type. Jimmy had never had a thing for blondes. He wondered if Thomas did. After all, Jimmy had no idea what his past lovers had looked like. Lovers, was that what they were now? Jimmy still thought of Thomas as a friend, but a more special one than the ones he'd had in school.

Anna beamed, carefully placing her cards on the wooden table. Thomas folded, and Jimmy followed.

"Boys, don't look so disappointed," she grinned. Apparently she did have some smugness in her. Thomas gave her a wide smile, one of his real ones. "We're off home then, see you both in the morning." She got up to fetch her coat. Bates stayed where he was.

"Well, I don't about you but I'm knackered," Thomas then sighed as he got up. Jimmy put the deck of cards back in its box. "Night, little duckling."

Jimmy's head snapped up, only to see Thomas halfway through the door already. He felt his face get flaming red, and thanked the architecture of the house. For once, he was glad they were in a dimly lit basement. Jimmy knew he sometimes could pull funny faces when he was concentrated. Especially the lips. He sucked them in and looked up. Bates still sat at the table, two chairs between him and Jimmy. He had a straight face, as usual. His eyes had little creases around them, making it seem like he was always just about to smile. He was a very serious man, and Jimmy always thought him and Anna made a strange pair, but maybe she was the white to his black.

"I'd better be off to bed too," Jimmy sighed. Bates didn't react to Thomas' comment, so maybe he just hadn't heard. Maybe he just saw it as teasing. They joked around a lot.

"I hope you know what you're doing," then came. Jimmy froze. So he had heard. A huff escaped Jimmy's lips, but it was ignored. "This is not a joke, not to him." He nodded towards the doorway, the same semi-amused expression on his face. His voice was flat and deep as always. He had a very specific way of talking, like he had all the words organised before they came out. It would explain the intense looks he'd given Jimmy during the card game.

"Is that a threat?" Jimmy blurted. He did not have his words organised before they came out, he decided. More often than not, something useless like this would come out. He knew it made him unpopular.

"Call it a warning," Bates replied evenly. He got up from his chair and grabbed his cane, ready to follow his wife down the hallway. "Good night, Jimmy."

Jimmy sat alone at the table for a while. It made sense. Everyone knew the state Thomas was in just some months ago. And they all knew who was to blame. They were a family, and Jimmy was the latest addition. Another slip and he would be the first to go. It was a little unfair though, he thought. He had the reputation of a flirt; impulsive, shallow, egocentric. He was still all those things, but he also genuinely liked Thomas and he would never hurt him willingly. Not again.

Jimmy sat back in his chair and sighed. His ears and cheeks were still burning unpleasantly. He placed his hands flat on the table and pushed himself up, then left the room. He knocked on Carson's door to tell him everyone had gone up.

Sometimes Jimmy hated being in service. He didn't care about the impossible hours or the hard work, standing through dinner for hours or getting scowled at by Carson. If he could just go home at the end of the day, it would make a huge difference. Instead, he found himself in a long hallway with short doors. It felt like he'd left home and moved into an orphanage. Mindlessly, he opened the door to Thomas' room, but he was greeted with darkness. He took a moment to listen for any signs of someone sleeping, but he only found silence. Jimmy closed the door again and crossed the hall to open his own door. Sure enough, the room was lit. A candle sat on the nightstand. Thomas sat on the bed in his shirtsleeves and pants, reading one of Jimmy's magazines.

"You should really tidy your room, Carson will have a fit if he sees it like this," Thomas hummed, slight amusement trickling into his tone. Jimmy sighed as he closed the door behind him. His tiny desk was overflowing, so he'd piled some things on the floor in front of it. He walked over and screwed the top back on his tin of pomade. The residue made his fingers sticky. "Is something wrong?" Thomas lowered the magazine on his lap. Jimmy recognised an article about a new Western.

Jimmy unbuttoned his shirt as he leaned back against his desk.

"You really shouldn't call me little duckling," Jimmy grumbled.

"Alright. Sorry about that."

There was no humour or mocking in his voice. Instead, he held out his arm. Jimmy sighed and walked over to sit down on the edge of his bed. Thomas locked him in with an arm on his lap. Jimmy noticed him scanning his face. He'd always been horrible at hiding anything, so he decided to get it over with.

"I don't think Bates likes me very much."

Thomas snorted. "I think everyone downstairs loves you," he muttered in his own, even tone. He brushed the hairs off of Jimmy's forehead while his other hand firmly rested on his thigh.

"I think everyone downstairs loves you," Jimmy retorted. "I know they do."

"I know." Thomas' jaw clenched. It seemed like it physically hurt him to admit someone cared. "What did Bates say?"

"Not to hurt you again," Jimmy summarised simply.

"Were you planning on that?" Thomas' tone as well as his touches were weirdly soothing. Jimmy felt his eyelids get heavy.

"No."

"Then... No need to rack your pretty little head over it any longer."

Jimmy nodded and turned to Thomas. He had a smile again. As simple as that, any hateful feeling Jimmy might have had, was forgotten.

"You are though," Thomas smirked, running the tip of his finger down Jimmy's cupid's bow and over his bottom lip. It made a kissing noise when he let go. Jimmy frowned. "You are my little duckling." He pulled Jimmy in and placed a soft kiss on his lips, the first of the day. Probably not the last.