To Any Reviewer: (Out of fairness to the T&TA reviewers who I haven't been able to get to yet), I will be sure to properly respond by the next ATAP update!

Author's Note: The next time I say I can post everyday, I want you to say, "Oh, really? Don't you remember Another Time, Another Place? How about Time and Time Again?" And while a few days isn't quite as mortifying as a few months… I'm still exasperated with myself.

In any case, we've got a story to get to!

Note: Although there will be parallels to T&TA's honeymoon chapter, unlike Scarborough, Edinburgh is a place I adore and have definitely visited. Thus, this one is definitely a little bit more personal.

Enjoy!

For the last nineteen years, their anniversary had consisted of little celebrations here and there to commemorate the occasion. Nothing more than a nice glass of wine at a late hour or a brief stroll after dark. Certainly nothing like this.

Elsie Carson stood in the heart of the Edinburgh Waverley train station, basking in the stunning scene. The glass roof stretched out to cover all possible angles, giving way to the unusually blue skies outside. Even in May, Scotland wasn't exactly known for sunshine and fair temperatures.

It seemed that today was proving to be an exception in more than one way.

The woman chuckled at this, turning to the real exception of the day: her husband. Charles had been in extraordinarily high spirits, quite ready to leave the house behind in favour of this new adventure. He had even gone so far as to declare that they were not to discuss household affairs, not while they were on this side of the border.

Elsie shook her head at the memory, amusement breaking through the incredulity. Over an hour into their long awaited honeymoon, the man had remained transfixed with the occasion. He was every bit as proper and pertinent as ever, only he was equally determined to enjoy this.

Case in point? Their train had long since headed up north to Aberdeen, the station now fairly empty. Yet he stood in the centre of it all, studying what little they could see of the Old Town's medieval and gothic architecture with admiration.

"I don't suppose you'd care to see the city, Charles?"

Luckily, the man recognised he'd been stood still long enough, chuckling as he unabashedly informed her, "I'm still trying to take in the details. I never imagined it to look quite like this."

She rolled her eyes, deciding it was best to give him a wee bit more time. There was no reason to hurry her daft man along, not when they wouldn't be allowed to check in for a few more hours. In fact, "Since we've enough time on our hands, would you be interested in a little tour?"

Charles turned back to her, intrigued. Elsie smiled, mildly pleased with herself, "I've only been here once or twice, and it was many years ago. Still, I think I remember a thing or two."

He perked up at once.

Minutes later, their bags were being attended to and it was time for the first surprise. Elsie kept her smile to herself as she guided Charles out of the station, taking him toward the western part of the city. If she remembered it right–– yes, that's it.

Charles was busy studying everything he could see, distracted by the bridge and the buildings and the cars careening through the streets. Yet Elsie knew exactly what to look for, old memories slipping back into sight.

There was a series of stony steps, one that was worn to pieces. It was tucked away between two of the finer buildings on the street, looking to be a place one wouldn't want to wander up and down at night. Fortunately, daylight was on their side for a few more hours.

She withheld a chuckle, enjoying the fact that her man was letting her take them through the city. Yes, well, she was quite curious as to how he would take to this first leg.

Right on cue, "I take it we'll be attempting those?"

Elsie bit back mirth, nodding. She watched her dear man try desperately to count the steps before them, his neck craning from the effort. And given his considerable height, that certainly counted for something.

Her mirth expanded, despite her best intentions to remain decidedly serious, "I don't suppose we ought to get started?"

"Right. Well," She really would have to keep from giving into a proper laugh. Needless to say, when Charles spoke of wanting to visit Auld Reekie she doubted this was what he had envisioned.

Five minutes later –– well, that had to be an exaggeration; she was sure it only took them four and a quarter –– and they had made it up the steps. She was only a mite winded, but her husband gave up on any pretence.

"So, this is Edinburgh." He wheezed, glancing about the beautiful cobblestone streets and refined architecture. Pubs, shops, liveliness of all sorts lined the rest of this upward curve, chatter and crowds fading off and around the corner. "Lovely. Am I to take it this is the Royal Mile?"

"The 'Royal Mile'?" Elsie questioned, never having heard of that name before.

Charles nodded, pausing to regain his capacity to breathe. He took another moment to weakly gesture about him, mumbling something about a book.

"Well, I'm not sure about any 'Royal Mile'. But I believe I do remember where the castle is, not to mention Holyrood." What she failed to mention was that there would be inclines in both directions. There simply didn't seem to be a point in depleting the man of what little strength remained.

"Excellent." For once, his hands weren't fidgeting. No, they had collapsed onto his knees, desperate for some sort of respite. Nevertheless, "No point in delaying matters then."

"Well," Her stomach growled in protest, prompting the woman to blush. "Do you not think we ought to consider lunch?"

Brown eyes nodded with relief, all too happy to concede this matter.

_._

Lunch had been a delightful affair, there could be no denying that. A chance to be husband and wife –– in public, no less. She could take his hand if she liked. He had every opportunity to beam at her. That is, he could do that once he adjusted to the climbing that Edinburgh required.

All in all, a most enjoyable time. Of course, they couldn't stop there. Not when there were more sights to see, "Now, I don't know about you but I think the castle to be quite nice."

"Is it up a hill?" Now that was unusually blunt. But Elsie didn't mind, not one bit.

In fact, she nearly snorted at his tactless question, "Nothing like what it took to get up here."

The man's head dipped into a grateful nod, "Well, then I leave you to it."

Just as promised, the cobblestone evened out into a flatter landscape. Charles returned back to his original admiration, drinking in the Victorian church houses, the statues, and the rest of the High Street. Truth be told, the man had an increased appreciation for this part of the tour, given the steadiness of this ground.

As for Elsie, she walked through fragments of memory. Could she genuinely swear to have heard the sound of bagpipes on this street, back in those days? Were there quite so many shops? Did the road to the castle curve toward the left? Or was it the one that veered to the right instead?

Then again, every time she began to lose herself to the confusion, she only had to grasp his hand. It wasn't as though that action brought back clarity. Merely that, she found herself willing to be more amenable to detours and misdirection. For with him, this wasn't a test of memory so much as it was a delightful adventure.

Yet soon enough, they were reaching the inevitable fork in the road. Two paths lurked before them. One of them would take them straight to the castle. The other would have them wandering alongside it.

Heavens, does it really matter which one we pick?

"Which way?" Charles queried, guiding her back to the choice at hand. Elsie glanced between the two roads, instinct calling her to step toward the left. With nothing else for it, she began to take them down that particular path.

I don't suppose we'll–– oh. Yes, that is what the left would bring, isn't it? She was remembering more now. Not everything, mind. But this particular path brought back another recollection. She had been decidedly shorter at the time, using one hand to cling to her mother's while the other kept Becky out of harm's way.

Elsie smiled a little, surprised at the wistful sentiment that dared to brush up against her. But it was no matter. She needed to focus on her watching her husband. For he had been so distracted by his surroundings he was not paying a wink of attention to what was in front of them.

"How on earth did I miss that?" Elsie bit back yet another smile as Charles trailed off, the man taking a step back from the shock. She looked down, taking special care to keep from grinning. His jaw had slipped from the sight, practically smacking into the ground as his eyes remained as wide as dinner plates.

"Really now, Charlie," She took his hand with mischief in her eyes, "Have you never seen a castle before?"

Then again, how often did one see a castle like this? Practically built into the hill it was perched on, Edinburgh Castle watched over the city with a grand air. Majestic was a quaint term for what towered over them. And though they weren't being taken straight into the entrance, walking alongside the castle proved to be just as enjoyable –– if not more so.

_._

The hills of Edinburgh had proved to be quite a challenge for the pair, as the wife suspected. Nevertheless, that didn't stop them from strolling all around the city in the time to come. Nor did it keep them from making what Elsie believed to be a silly mistake.

"I doubt you want to go up there, Charles." Two days into this adventure had brought them outside the monument dedicated to Walter Scott. She could suppose it to be a beautiful Victorian structure. As a child, however, it had terrified her.

"What do you mean, 'go up there'?"

Elsie pointed to the queue that loitered outside the monument before gesturing up, "If I remember correctly, you can go all the way to the top. But I couldn't tell you what it's like, I've never been."

Charles shuddered at the thought, glancing up at the top of the monument. It looked to be taller than Downton, though she didn't care to measure the distance. No, the pair were quite agreed that that was one adventure that needn't occur.

However, that didn't stop the man from being curious about a different sort of adventure: "I'm almost afraid to ask."

Elsie tilted her head, her eyes scanning the street in an effort to glean his unspoken question. She then caught sight of it. Barr's Iron Brew. According to the advertisement, it was a classic Scottish concoction.

Well, she had never heard of it. And for that matter, "Why on earth would that interest you?"

"I thought I heard it being talked about earlier," He informed her, examining the advertisement with further intrigue. She shook her head, never quite understanding his fondness for such things. He couldn't stand newfangled contraptions, but he always had a soft spot for discovering drinks.

Elsie never would have guessed it, given the man's obstinate manner when it came to the change. Personally, she didn't share such a inclination. Though, speaking of inclinations, she was bothered by something. Something entirely different than strange, supposedly classic drinks.

There was a place here. A place that her mother had taken her and Becky to. She could only remember snippets of memory. Plucked grass resting in her hand. The sun as it sifted through the clouds. The outline of the city in the distance. But for the life of her, she couldn't recall the name. There was no clue to give away the spot, nothing at all.

That was when Elsie realised her husband had disappeared, "Charles?"

In seconds, he had reappeared from the shop, carrying what looked to be two glass bottles of the drink in question. Elsie chucked aside her reverie in favour of an arch, "I take it you expect me to taste the thing?"

This time, it was his turn to roll his eyes fondly, handing over the drink with a practised air. She accepted it as though it were a glass of his Lordship's wine, pleased he had been kind enough to uncap their bottles. Seconds later, "My, my. I've never tasted anything quite like that."

Charles nodded, staring questioningly at the drink in question, "Perhaps another time."

"Quite."

_._

It was their last full day in Edinburgh. More specifically, it had been when they were meandering through the city. That was when he was given the hint of a most brilliant idea.

At the time, he had been concentrating on one thing and one thing only: keeping his wife away from a certain shop. Needless to say, had Charles known what was minutes away, he would have sent her into that shop much sooner.

As it was, however, "Now, Elsie,"

But there was to be no stopping the woman. Not after she spotted a toaster in the shop's window, "Charlie, you did have me try out that 'Iron Brew'. Certainly there's no harm in this?"

He grumbled something suspiciously about revolutionary contraptions and the likes, an image of the downstairs set aflame coming to mind. But she was already marching on in, only to inquire about the matter, mind. Nothing more.

Indeed. Yes, well, Elsie should consider herself rather lucky he didn't have time to sigh and bemoan the circumstances. "Did you hear what the Italians have come up with?"

Charles turned toward out of habit, watching two young English women converse on the street. They didn't look to rank as high as the Crawleys, but their clothes were dear, that was for sure.

"And just what was that?" Her companion inquired, sounding like she was ready to snicker at some outrageous trend. Yes, they were most certainly not as graceful as the family. Nevertheless, his attention lingered with them. For some strange reason, he couldn't keep from eavesdropping.

"Apparently," The younger of the two confessed, a gleam of mischief sparkling in her eyes, "You can 'renew' your vows these days! Can you imagine?"

Renew your vows? What was that about? Were they talking about wedding vows? But the resounding snickers and muffled chortles drowned out the rest of the conversation. Not to mention, Elsie was returning, "Apparently, there's nothing for sale! Not for a toaster, mind."

The woman shook her head at the thought, "I suppose we ought to get on with it. I'll either find one or I won't."

Charles hummed unconsciously, not quite listening.

"Do you not suppose we ought to find some haggis? I'm sure you could learn to like it, eventually." However, his wife was oblivious to his shuddering at the thought. Already, she was turning back, looking to be amazed at something.

"Elsie?"

"I think I've finally remembered something. Only," She glanced at the sky. His eyes followed, curious. There was more grey today than sun, something that prompted a frown to taint her enthusiasm. "Well, I doubt there's a point to it now. Besides, we've had a lovely time as it is."

"Whatever it is you're thinking of,"

But the woman was already gesturing down the street, "Were you not interested in that café? It might be nice to take lunch there."

"Elsie," He groaned, knowing full well what she was doing. She continued to look about the street, practically ignoring his indignation. So be it. He could let the subject drift away. But he would not be letting the matter go. They'd had enough of depriving themselves over the last twenty years.

Lunch had come and gone. With it, the clouds dissipated. It wasn't a perfectly sunny day, but it was probably the nearest thing Scotland could get. And considering it had been the clouds that'd depleted her enthusiasm, "Right. I don't suppose you'd be interested in sharing what had come to mind?"

She knew what he was on about at once. Better still, his lovely plotter of a wife got straight to the point: "It's only something that I finally remembered."

Right. Elsie certainly had refrained from beating about the bush. Still, that didn't mean she was actually going to reveal all the facts. Hence, why he settled for staring at her, patient as ever.

She scoffed, more amused than anything, "It was a place my mother had taken Becky and I. It––"

It was the first time she had felt safe. Comfortable. At ease with her circumstances and the life she had to live. She was no stranger to taking on tedious tasks, not even as a child. That there had been a place that eased such burdens, well, that made the visit memorable in and of itself.

"Where is it?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember the name. But I may know how to get there."

_._

It had been slow going, at first. Trickles of memory came back to her, guiding her feet down familiar paths. They had to pass by the station and the monument –– that is, if she remembered it right.

But trickles had turned into rivulets. This was the street her sister's braids had bounced down. These shops may not be familiar, but the outline of the buildings were.

Elsie could only be grateful he was willing to trudge along, faithfully following her up and down sloping streets. His curiosity did not waver, not even when she had to close her eyes and fetch another round of recollection.

Right. Heavens, she was beginning to sound just like her companion. But she was correct: it would be necessary to take that street and–– Thank heavens we got there in the end.

The woman looked up at a wonderfully familiar sign, transported all the way back to those few happy days. Calton Hill. If she remembered correctly, "There are only just a few steps and then it's a very easy hill. You'll see."

"Oh, good." He was blurting that out, was he? Well, she thought that the whole thing was more endearing than when he pretended to be indifferent to the incline of Edinburgh.

The steps were taken, hints of a hill greeting them at last. She could feel nostalgia finally come back to her, finding the whole thing silly and yet sweet.

It had been a sunnier day back then –– or maybe that was the imagination of a child.

Either way, as the hill sloped and curved, she fell back into contentment. The way Calton Hill worked was simple yet wonderful: as one ambled up the hill, they were given a breathtaking view of the water, the other hills, and eventually the city itself.

She heard him gasp rather than exclaim anything, her smile widening at the sound. It took a great deal to make Charles speechless, as everyone was well aware. As for herself, she was simply happy to be back.

"If I'm not mistaken," Blue eyes studied the land, "Becky and I had been sat there, on the grass. However, I'm sure there's a bench–– what are you doing?"

Charles Carson was going so far as to wade into the grass, looking back at her expectantly, "Is this the spot, you think?"

"Well, I believe so. But why on earth are you sitting down?" He was being positively incorrigible and, to be quite honest, confusing her to no end. This was the butler of Downton Abbey! When would he ever want to sit in the grass, without a blanket, no less?

"It's dry," The man informed her, as though the dryness was the only thing dictating they sit. She scoffed a little, disbelieving. But, well, Elsie could only supposed there was no harming in it. If it were dry and as serviceable as a bench, it would work for the occasion.

Only, when he complained of the grass staining his trousers, not to mention the uncomfortable quality of the ground, she would have to do her best to keep from retorting that he had been the one to suggest this!

Author's Note: Needless to say, they spent more than a minute there! And though it was a bit uncomfortable, they actually had a rather lovely time.

So, what have we learned? To amend the optimistic "I can post every day" to the classic "I will be posting every 1-3 days for each story"! (Which is still infinitely better than months of nothing... I suppose).

In any case, as always, I hope you've enjoyed this and that you have a lovely day! 'Till next time :)