In Response to Guest Review:To the guest who made a very valid point, definitely. And, normally I wouldn't even think of using such language to describe the moment. But everything else I was coming up with didn't seem right. In any case, I certainly appreciate that perspective and the review :) thank you!

Author's Note: … this episode. This episode and I had some moments. The result? Less fluff, more bicker-snark-banter-with-a-dash-of-resolution.

Enjoy!

"I don't suppose you've decided to run some errands?"

You know very well I haven't. But she held back her exasperation, wanting to be poised when she fired off a response. Only he was daring to continue, giving her no time to speak, "Because I thought we might go down together."

"Did you?" Her smile remained pointed, the woman not in the mood. "Because I wasn't planning on running any errands."

His countenance darkened, "No?"

Must he be this histrionic? Apparently so. "No. If you must know, I was planning to pay a visit to Crawley H––"

The butler's hand rose faster than his horror, halting the conversation at once.

"Mrs. Hughes," Here we go. "Am I to believe my disappointment means so little to you?"

Yes. You are. But that was childish to say as such, even if it was also true in this instance. Still, she had no desire to be seen as immature. Maintaining a straightforward attitude, one that couldn't be challenged by obstinacy or dismissed as silliness, that was her aim in this conversation.

Therefore, "Mr. Carson, you may believe whatever you wish. I certainly won't be disappointed either way." The woman inwardly rolled her eyes at his stiffening posture, his growing outrage. She had no qualms about that quip, he wouldn't be getting an apology out of her.

Besides, hadn't he long since learned he couldn't box her up?

"Now, if you'll excuse me," And with that, Elsie turned on her heel and headed off in the direction of Crawley House. If Mr. Carson chose to follow her, so be it. But he wouldn't be stopping her, not in the least.

_._

It had been days since that conversation and Charles Carson remained in a foul mood over it. The housekeeper had gone so far as to throw his own words back at him without hesitation, stubbornly refusing to see reason when it came to their former maid.

Yes, well, his only hope was that she saw reason before too long. Not that that was likely, not with her attitude of late. Sometimes he wondered if she acted this way simply to spite him. That didn't seem terribly likely, but it wasn't impossible.

"Well, I'm off to fetch some things," He kept his gaze on the papers before him, uninterested in making any sort of eye-contact or acknowledgement. "Is there anything you'd like me to get you while I'm in the village?"

Was that remark supposed to be an olive branch? Something kind to patch up that conversation? Probably not. More likely, it was a coded message about her plan for the afternoon, a scheme undoubtedly designed to discreetly visit that former maid of theirs.

The butler shook his head at the thought. Truly, she'd been so unapologetic about visiting Crawley House before, why disguise her intentions now? There was no need to try to spare him torment, not when she'd made her opinion of his beliefs so painfully clear, "I didn't know that that's what you've decided to call it now."

"I'm afraid I didn't catch that, Mr. Carson." Afraid, was she? He rather doubted that.

"Never mind." He deigned to incline his head upwards, briefly casting a look in her direction before turning back to his work. "Enjoy your errands, Mrs. Hughes."

Mr. Carson thought that was the end of it. She'd informed him of her plans, he'd acknowledged her intentions without any reprimand. Normally by now, she would be well out of the house.

But she wasn't leaving. She was still stood in the doorway, silent.

"Best get a move on, wouldn't you say?"

Somehow, her silence grew, if such a thing were possible. But with her silence came a stubbornness of his own. She could remain there all she liked, she could even glare at him if she so wished, he wouldn't budge when it came to focusing on his work.

"Mr. Carson," There was frost in that tone, make no mistake. Yet he remained indifferent. "I hope you realise I can respect you without agreeing with you!"

Charles paused, surprised by the image before him. He'd looked up without realising it, taking in the sight of a decidedly frustrated housekeeper. But there was more than mere frustration. Incredulity emanated from his friend as though she were hurt by his behaviour. Although, perhaps hurt wasn't the right word for it. But there was something there, something that bothered him.

Still, there was something else that bothered him even more: believing her statement to be true. "You can?"

This time, he caught her disbelief as though it were a dish being flung, "If I couldn't, I doubt we would've been able to manage all these years!"

Charles probably deserved that, even if he didn't like it.

And, no, he wouldn't be admitting to deserving that remark, not anytime soon.

"Now if you'll excuse me," But he couldn't have her walking off like that. The man didn't know what to say but he knew he didn't want her to leave, not just yet.

"Actually," Mrs. Hughes paused in the doorway, her countenance filled with an irritated confusion. It was clear that if he wanted to speak up, he had to get on with it, "If you'll give me a minute, I've also a few errands that need attending to, errands I don't mind personally running, that is."

The butler had no such errands before him, not officially. But he could make something up. There was always something that needed to be done, whether it was a priority or not.

"Yes," Charles pretended to make a mental note of something, closing the ledger before him with a sense of finality. "Now's as good a time as any to step into the village."

Mrs. Hughes hadn't moved from her place, a strange mixture of emotion strewn across her face. He didn't know how to classify it, having never seen anything quite like it before. He resisted the foolish temptation to wave a hand in front of the woman to confirm she was all right, finding the thought to be rather queer.

Instead, he opted for a simple, "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to be left alone?"

That shook the housekeeper out of her thoughts. "There's no need for that. But suppose we run into Ethel?"

He kept his answer honest and to the point, knowing better than to beat about the bush now, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Well then," Was she teasing him? After everything? More importantly, whether she was or not, would he allow himself to be bothered by it? "Does that change your decision?"

Truth be told, "Not in the least."

That looked to have shocked her more than anything else but she recovered well enough, "Good. I hope that means there'll be no more of that,"

He wisely held his tongue, choosing instead to keep quiet and think up a strategy for if they did run into the former maid. Perhaps there would be a way to shield Mrs. Hughes from Ethel's sight. Better yet––

"Mr. Carson," The warning was clear, "I can hear your thoughts all the way from here."

Right. Time to open the door and change the subject, "So, what errands will you be running today, Mrs. Hughes?"

She fixed him with a look, harrumphing. Obviously, his attempt to divert the conversation had been seen through, not that really surprised him.

"Well, I think you'll be pleased to hear that my new toaster has arrived," Oh, yes. The fire bucket incident had cost him a pretty penny in the end, make no mistake of it. Though, he'd rather lose a tidy sum than her respect. "Thank you ever so much for offering to replace it. I admit I was surprised when you had offered..."

Offered was a kind word, but the man wouldn't be challenging it. Not when he still wanted to learn more about the whole, 'Elsie Hughes can respect Charles Carson without agreeing with him' bit. He'd gathered as much over the years, but to hear a concise explanation would do wonders.

So, if he wanted to learn anything about that, he would have to be content with personally purchasing that newfangled contraption. And he would most likely have to refrain from showing too much disdain toward Ethel if the former maid happened to cross their path.

"Speaking of your new toaster," The man looked away as he began to voice this thought, not wanting to see her response when he voiced this next bit. He could only be thankful they had made it into the yard. No one else needed to be privy to this conversation, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to demonstrate its functions?"

Charles heard rather than saw her gape.

When she had remained shocked for another quarter of a minute, he hastily added, "So as to avoid a similar catastrophe in the future, of course."

"That sounds more like the Mr. Carson I know," The housekeeper weakly spoke. Had his inquiry really astonished her that much? He turned back to look at her, trying his best not to smile, "And I would be quite willing, yes."

"Good." Suddenly, he found himself rather looking forward to these errands after all. And, yes, he rather doubted anything could take away that enthusiasm –– not Ethel and certainly not that toaster.

Today's Inspiration: Today's inspiration comes from the show itself! "Well, if her Ladyship is prepared to visit Crawley House, I dare say you won't object when I do."

Author's Note: Toaster references for the win! But in all seriousness, I'm with Mrs. Hughes on this one (not that I really tend to be on Mr. Carson's side when it comes to their arguments). I'm just also a sucker for we can have arguments and still end on a good note kind of conversations.

In any case, as always, have a lovely day! 'Till next time.