A/N: Quick and dirty topical oneshot in the Downton Radio universe. Stay safe, everyone.
"You look very cozy," she says, a spray bottle in hand. Her husband is leaning back in his chesterfield chair, looking quite like a squire; if it weren't for the expensive wireless headphones.
"Working from home isn't ideal, but I'm making the most of it," he answers and frowns as she sprays his desk with watered down bleach and wipes it down. She can feel his eyes on her back and it's distracting, but his earphones disappear in the first drawer and he drums his fingers on the wooden table top.
"Lift your hands," she orders, trying to get on with her nervous cleaning. Which he does and he lets his right hand land on the soft slope of her bottom. Elsie laughs and shakes her head.
"If this is 'making the most of it', this whole quarantine will be a doddle."
But it isn't. She's been anxious and she's trying to limit her news intake, which is hard when your job means you have to announce the hourly newscast. They've been locked together in their home for ten days and all they've seen is each other, the fellow who brought their grocery delivery to halfway the garden path and Nora on Whatsapp.
Charles is gently squeezing her bum as if there's nothing out of the ordinary, which is equally irritating and soothing. She puts down the bottle and cloth and turns to him.
"I thought you were being called by Mary?"
"I am, but not for a few minutes." He is skimming her sides and hips with soft hands and he is smiling at her.
"I've not had a cuddle from Nora in ten days," she says and a tear wells up in her eye. She knows Charles is finding all of this a lot less hard than she does. He is a homebird as it is, but Elsie has always kept herself busy: she has her girls' nights and she goes to the shops and the park and the gym. She babysits Nora (well, they do that together, since they take the little one home from school, but still) and then there's work where she sees Thomas and Daisy and Tom and…
She just isn't adjusting as well as she thought she would. When she was getting ready to self isolate, she thought it would be nice to have some time alone with Charles. Undistracted. Just their program to be made from his workroom on Friday afternoons and she would be able to get around to all the little tasks she continually put off for years.
Organising the cupboard under the stairs.
Staining the garden bench.
Deep cleaning the bathroom.
All of which she had done in the first three days and it's day ten now and she is slowly running out of ideas. Outside spring is hurling itself all over her garden: the trees are blooming, the grass is fragrant and every morning she is awoken by bird song. It would be quite idyllic if it weren't for this feeling of constant threat she feels seeping into everything she does. The contrast between life going on while life is being put on hold is almost too much for her.
Charles pulls her down on his lap and lowers his face to hers. He is holding her firmly, but his kisses are tender and she can feel him smile against her lips.
"What's so funny, Mr Carson?"
"Nothing… I'm just happy to have you with me," he answers without hesitation and she is welling up again.
"You are making me weep," she sniffles a little.
She's not been sleeping much; her brain won't shut down. Every night she lies next to this big bear of a man who snores gently into the cool night and she can feel her whole body tense with worry. Not sleeping always makes her teary and a little wobbly. Long gone are the days she could move mountains on a catnap.
"Don't cry, Elsie Hughes…" he says so softly and of course that doesn't help at all. Elsie laughs a little at herself. She takes a deep breath and it's filled with Charles's aftershave and a trace of toothpaste and the smell of tea - a hint of chlorine, too.
"Which song did you choose?" she asks, trying to distract herself.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he teases and then instead of listening to any kind of answer she might have given, kisses her squarely on the mouth and it's exactly what she needs: to feel their love traveling between them, to feel she isn't in this alone. She coaxes his lips apart and before she knows it, she is being kissed so deeply, so thoroughly, and for the first time in many days she is no longer thinking about the pandemic.
She moans a little, feels him stirring under her and it's so thrilling, as it always is and she is deftly untying his tie when his phone is ringing and he tears himself away from her.
"That'll be Mary," he says, catching his breath and he flicks on the old fashioned radio that stands on the corner of his desk. He slides the green bar on his phone and his voice fills the room from two sources.
"Charles Carson."
"Mr Carson! You are on the air. Tell us how you are doing?" Mary is sounding terribly relieved to hear Charles's voice and Elsie presses her lips together, thinking the girl could have called him directly, without having an audience.
"Mary, we are just fine. We are keeping to guidelines: not going out unless absolutely necessary, we've not hoarded any toilet paper and we're washing our hands to the chorus of Jolene. How are you doing there at the station?"
There's a second of silence before Mary answers it's very quiet at the studio and that she could dance in the corridor without being seen. She admits to missing Anna - which pleases Elsie - and gives them a peptalk that consists of repeating the guidelines for the World Health Organisation and some tough talk that could have come straight from the mouth of her grandmother.
Elsie has to admit she likes it better than the drivel she's seen on her facebook page… Half the time she thinks: 'that's not social distancing, Jean' and 'oh, now you think supermarket staff deserve benefits?' and that is why she is staying off most social media. It's not like she needs it: Beryl keeps her laughing with ridiculous memes and Daisy sends her TikTok videos of dancing babies.
Mary continues: "Of course our listeners are impatient to hear your song for the day, Mr Carson."
Charles is manoeuvring his wife a little to the side and she is grinning at him, before he manages to hit 'send' on his iPad screen and tells Mary she can start his choice now and that he'll announce it himself if she doesn't mind.
There are few who would deny Charles Carson such a request and Mary is certainly not one of them.
"Go ahead, Mr Carson!"
There's always a solid quality to Charles's performing voice and it's is comforting to hear him as he speaks to those who have tuned in: "We've been in self quarantine for ten days, me and my Mrs Hughes, and while the hurt of the world is weighing heavily on us, there is nobody I'd rather brave this storm with."
Trumpets sound and she smiles, holds on to him while he announces the song and the artist and tells Mary to stay safe, to not be a hero and he quickly thanks everyone who is keeping hope afloat. As he signs off, he lifts her off his knees and puts his phone on the desk.
She looks at him - he is so tall and he is looking so calm and centered and it really helps her relax a little bit. The song is joyful. The lyrics make her feel warm inside and when he turns and takes her in his arms, she puts her head against his chest to hear his heart beating steadily.
You are the best thing
That ever happened to me
And she wholeheartedly agrees: Charles Carson is the best thing that ever happened to her.
* Charles played: The best thing, by Ray Lamontagne