A couple of weeks later

He never meant to linger. He had been going slow in the morning, as being up and about in preparation for working all day was something he had not done for weeks. His body had complained when he had woken to an alarm, the continuous ringing that demanded he rise and prepare himself for the day ahead. He had returned from the bathroom, half dressed to the bedroom and had groggily crossed the room to the bed where his shirt lay ready for him. Richard picked it up, but it only remained slung over his arm as he caught his reflection in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door that Thomas had left open earlier. The ticking clock and the sound of Thomas washing out his toothbrush in the bathroom down the hall made him aware that he should be getting a move on. Of course, he had more time than Thomas did and didn't have to worry about being late to work considering it was just downstairs, but he had been determined to get back into good habits. Weeks of lying around not doing much and having everyone do things for him, threatened to make him lazy. Nevertheless, he found himself captured by his reflection.

On the face of it, all was normal. But his gaze was drawn to the mark on the left side of his chest, close to his heart. The permanent reminder that he had almost died. It was not much to look at. No dramatic scar, no life changing injury, just a little shallow mark of twisted skin, an imperfection in an otherwise unblemished landscape. Richard ran his finger over his rib that had only recently lost its pain. The purple and yellow bruises marking him in various places were still there, but had faded considerably. Thomas had said to him a few nights ago that bruises go through a sequence of the different colours of the rainbow as they heal. He touched the roughness of the scar, circling it and pushing on it with a sort of fascination that brought memories back before his eyes. Not much, just fleeting images and sounds: the howling wind through the trees, the shine of the gun, the disbelief as he saw the blood on his hands, the cold mud, Thomas's scream...and his kiss. Richard closed his eyes, his arms fell down to his side. There was more: more mud, more screams... unrecognised screams, an explosion, a dead man's eyes, a bright light, the smell of sanitised linen. Memories from long ago he thought he had long since buried.

"Richard?"

Richard jumped and flew back into reality. Thomas stood in the doorway with a frown of concern all over his face. He looked down at the floor. His freshly ironed shirt lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and for a moment, he couldn't work out why it was there and not on his arm like before. "Sorry, I was a bit out of it then. I'm fine." He didn't sound very convincing.

Thomas slowly walked over to him and lifted the crumpled shirt off the floor, smoothing out any creases as he laid it out on the unmade bed behind them both. "You sure? You don't have to start today. I'm sure Chris won't be offended if you decide to leave it for a few more days."

"No. I'll start today. I need to do something with my life now. I grew bored of waiting for my body to heal and now that it has, pretty much, I want to be back to how things were before. Anyway, Chris says the new sign goes up outside today. I want to be there to see that." Richard watched them in the mirror as Thomas closed his eyes, laid a hand on his bare shoulder and pressed an encouraging kiss into his neck and then on his jaw. It was not something he had seen many times before, the two of them intimate and alone, reflected back at him as though he was watching a movie at the pictures. But like any good movie, it was over too soon.

"I need to be going. But you'll be alright?"

Richard took the shirt off the bed and neatly slid into it, his fingers working neatly over the buttons. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. It's all just going to take a bit of getting used too, but once I'm downstairs in the shop I'll get right back into the swing of things, I'm sure of it."

"You're still coming up to Downton later?"

"I will, yes."

Thomas nodded with a small smile. "Good. They'll like to see you again. But if you don't feel up to it, call me and I'll be sure to make them understand that you need time."

"Thank you." Richard did up the top button of his shirt and slung his loose tie around his neck as the clock downstairs chimed six. They kissed long enough for each chime to ring out and silence again. "You go, Thomas. Can't have Downton's most handsome butler being late can we?"

...

David found a welcome kind of peace pottering around his small kitchen in the early hours of the morning. He had risen early and left Chris, who was still sleeping deeply, upstairs. He had lazily dressed in whatever clothes had been nearest to hand whilst, the light in the more shadowy parts of the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, was still dim. He found a shirt that he presumed was his and pulled it on, followed by his boots so he could be dressed enough to venture outside into the refreshing chill of late October to feed the chickens and collect any eggs. He had been happy to find that they were in luck, and left the basket on Matthew Tomlinson's doorstep next door when he returned. However, on second thoughts he moved the basket on the wall instead. He chuckled to himself as he recalled how his good intentions were ruined by Mathew's sheepdog Hector, who in his excitement to see him, had bounded out of the door and scattered every single egg all over the path and steps, leaving nothing but a yellow dripping mess. David found it impossible to be angry with a dog who, despite technically being an adult, still acted as though he was a puppy.

David boiled the kettle and washed out two cups so he could make Chris and himself tea. He had planned on surprising Chris with the small gesture, which he knew he'd love. However, a knock at the door interrupted his actions. Glancing up the stairs to where he knew Chris was still sleeping, he peeked through the curtains of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. The flutter of fear that came instinctively when he was not expecting any visitors, dissipated easily as he saw Matthew standing a few steps back from his front door. The bolt creaked as he unlocked the door, a squeak on ths hinges reminding him of another odd job he needed to get around to sometime soon. It was only in the light of the open door that he noticed, too late, that he was wearing Chris's shirt and not his. "Morning Matthew."

"Thank you for sorting the eggs out. They are safe inside this time so my personal troublemaker cannot ruin them this time!" Matthew Tomlinson spoke cheerily as he fondly ruffled the fur on Hector's head, who sat suspiciously obediently by his feet.

"I woke up early, you know I like to make myself useful. What can I do for you?" David asked. He stifled a yawn. He had not slept much last night. Neither had Chris.

"I'm making breakfast, and since we had a good deal of eggs today I thought, you could both join me, unless you've already eaten?"

"Oh! Well yes, I'd love to. But Chris isn't here. He went home last night," David lied. He knew he didn't need to lie to him, but it was a habit of denying he had company.

Matthew, glanced over David's shoulder and raised a knowing eyebrow. David glanced back over his own shoulder, expecting to see Chris standing there as it would offer an explanation to his expression, but he wasn't. "Chris is welcome to join us both."

"But he's not..." David was not a skilled liar.

"David." Matthew grinned. "I was not born yesterday. His coat is hanging up behind you. It's definitely his as you own nothing as well kept."

David felt his face redden. "Sorry. It's habit, denial. It doesn't mean I don't trust you."

"Does Chris like his eggs hard boiled or softer?"

David was grateful Matthew said no more about it, and that he didn't seem offended. "Er...softer I think. He's still asleep, but we'll be around as soon as we can."

...

David undid Chris's shirt as he, quickly and as silently as he could, trotted upstairs and pushed the ajar bedroom door open slowly. He shrugged off the shirt and carefully laid it out on the chair near the window where the sun shone through the open curtains covering Chris in a golden glow as he slept still. David's heart stuttered with the sight of him. Chris, in his sleep, had pushed back the covers so that they only covered the bottom half of him, his left leg, hung out lazily over the edge of the bed. He lay on his stomach, his naked back that bore the scars of his past, painted in the morning sun. David watched as Chris smiled in his sleep and pushed the side of his face into the pillow, his usually neat hair in disarray after sleep and hours of love making before. The sun must have warmed him enough to rouse him a little as he stretched out his arms like a star and flopped the right arm down onto the other side of the mattress, the bed as naked as he was. Chris turned over onto his back and groggily opened his eyes, blinking at the light, but smiling warmly up at him, making David's heart jump once more.

"Morning sleepyhead," David sat down on Chris's side of the bed and beant to kiss his forehead as Chris accustomed himself to being awake.

"How long have you been up?" Chris's voice was rough from hours of not being needed.

"Hour or so. I went out to feed the chickens and fetch the eggs."

Chris quipped a smile as he woke further. "Half dressed?"

"Er no. I had a shirt on. Your shirt actually, I put it on by mistake, found it on the stairs."

"Oh? Now I wonder how that got there?" Chris pushed himself up on his elbows and David didn't dare move as Chris explored his bare chest with his hand whilst he smiled to himself.

"How indeed."

"Do you need to be up quite yet? I don't need to go for a while. I was thinking that maybe...you could get back into bed?"

"As tempting as you are, I can't and you need to get dressed." Chris's frown at being refused was adorable. "Sorry, but whilst you were sleeping Matthew popped round and invited us for breakfast next door."

"Both of us?"

"Yeah. He knew you were still here."

Chris glanced at the wall. Beyond that wall was the bathroom, but beyond that one was Matthew's cottage. "You don't think that he...you don't think he heard us?"

"Probably not." That was more to reassure Chris, the thought had crossed his own mind earlier, but Chris was still apprehensive about Matthew knowing their secret, even though he knew they had nothing to fear from him. "He saw your coat on the peg near the door."

"Oh."

"You know it's fine?"

"I know, but tell that to my instincts. I'll get there with this one eventually David. Breakfast sounds nice though. I should get dressed, but before I do, can you draw the curtains again."

"It's a lovely day though."

Chris looked bashfully down at himself, as he cracked a smile. "It is, but I can't very well go over and close them whilst wearing nothing but what I was born in can I?"

…

Chris joined Richard in the street outside the shop. He had gone out there as the decorator was finishing his work on the new sign to pay him and had been out there since, admiring the sign. "He's done a great job," he said, standing next to Richard and folding his arms whilst nodding in approval.

The new sign was much more than just some fancy words in a nice colour. It did look good, the words Ellis and Webster Books, crafted in green italicised font, the letters each finely outlined with a thin red border, but they also signified something else. A new beginning, a chance to put the painful past weeks behind them. For Chris also it was something he had always wanted. Maybe he had not always dreamed of his name above a shop front but he wanted to have something he could be proud to call his own, and he had that with his friend Richard. It was another addition to what had been, ever since he woke up, a perfect day. He had felt the warmth of the sun on his back earlier as he lay nude on David's bed. In his sleepiness he had for a moment thought he had been lying outside, but the pillows he had nestled his face into as he gradually woke confirmed he was not. His whole body felt relaxed, no aches or pains, nothing troubling his mind, he just felt good. A peaceful sleep with nothing to worry him, and that made a welcome change. David was his cure. He still had dreams, nightmares about memories that became, in those moments, all too real, but now he had someone who would hold him close and tell him everything was going to be okay. His relaxed rested state he would put one hundred percent down to a good sleep, except he also knew hours of passionate sex was responsible also. He smiled to himself as he, right on the street with people passing him by as they went about their daily lives, thought about how he had gripped the headboard so tight he wouldn't be surprised to find he had left a mark on the wood!

"The red compliments the green I think," Richard pondered, snapping Chris out of his pleasant daydream. Probably just as well, as he felt his cheeks warm at his thoughts.

"Yes, perhaps we should get him back here to do the window frames so they match the shade," he suggested, to distract himself from his own mind.

"I think we should. I know I painted this myself when I bought the place last year, but I don't think I should be up a ladder quite yet. Mr Barrow doesn't think I should rush straight into things too much."

"We'll muddle along together" Chris reassured him. "It's just very nice to have you back and things back to normal. It was getting a bit lonely, I'll admit, running it myself." Chris grinned and Richard raised an eyebrow to ask what was amusing him. "At least I won't have to constantly juggle the role of shop keeper along with your personal chef and librarian!" he joked, referring to the many times he had made Richard lunch or found him books and magazines from the shop to keep him occupied whilst he lay in bed.

"Oh! No that will be a relief I am sure Mr Webster," Richard agreed with good humour, giving a playful shove.

Chris breathed in deep and sighed contently. The sound of a donkey braying somewhere in the countryside beyond the village accompanied the clang of the school bell, as the children were called in from break time in the playground. He was vaguely aware of a cackle-like laugh coming from the direction of the grocery shop opposite where two elderly women had been standing chatting for about twenty minutes now. Everything felt normal once again, only perhaps now, he liked the normality, now that he had something that was his and someone who he belonged to.

…

"Well I think we have some sort of plan sorted here don't you think Mrs Hughes?" Thomas asked as he stood up from his chair in Mrs Hughes's sitting room later that evening. They had been going over the arrangements for the visit of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire the day after tomorrow and Thomas was now ready to sit down and eat a good hearty meal. He had just about stopped his stomach from grumbling whilst overseeing the upstairs dinner earlier, but standing watching the family eating food that certainly tasted as good as it looked and smelt, did not make the task easy, nor did the fact that they took ages to finish each course making his evening meal even later.

"Yes, I think so," she agreed. "I'll pass your suggestion onto Mrs Patmore. I am sure she can rustle something up that will keep them at the dining table a bit longer."

Mrs Hughes had informed Thomas that the Duke has a bit of a bad gambling habit. Bad as in he can't help himself, but not in the sense that he always lost. He seemed to have a suspiciously successful winning streak going according to Her Ladyship. As a result, she had asked Mrs Hughes and himself to come up with a discreet way to keep him at the table eating for longer and therefore leaving him and His Lordship, who enjoyed a game of cards too much, less time to play. "Well, it was the best I could come up with aside from, slipping a sleeping pill into his drink Mrs Hughes."

Mrs Hughes frowned but failed to hide her smile. "Yes well, as much as I agree it might be effective Mr Barrow, I don't think drugging the guests is the best move. A longer dinner is much better I think." Thomas had instead suggested that Mrs Patmore should serve several dishes that would take longer to serve and to eat, with the intention that by the time they had finished eating the Duke would be either tired or so completely stuffed after many courses, that he would call it a night before he had the chance to rid Lord Grantham of his money.

"Suppose so Mrs Hughes," Thomas grinned. He enjoyed these moments where he could bring out his old scheming self and use his skills with permission from everyone else for good, well for most people's good anyway. "Should keep His Lordship from gambling away the roof over our heads!" He opened the door into the hallway and found his already good mood even more improved as he heard the unmistakable sound of Richard's laugh coming from the kitchen.

He wasted no time in reaching the kitchen and poked his head around the corner of the door before entering the room. "Mr Ellis."

Richard who had until now had his back to him, smiled in a way that made Thomas flutter inside. "Mr Barrow. I'm a little early, I know."

"Your timing is perfect, as always." Behind Richard's back Thomas saw Charlotte smirk to herself.

"I heard that the upstairs dinner took its time. You must be starving Mr Barrow." Unless Thomas was mistaken, he could hear the suggestive undertone of Richard's voice that made him think Richard was not just talking about food.

"Have you eaten?" Thomas asked, picking an off cut from the vanilla sponge tray bake that was cooling on the table, and popping it in his mouth with two fingers, sucking the crumbs off his fingernail, pleased to see that Richard's attention was fully on his actions.

"Just something light. But I always have room for more," Richard smirked at him and Thomas felt the growing warmth on his face. This was a bit of an unfair situation, he thought, as Richard, given he had his back to the three women in the kitchen, had his facial expressions shielded from view, but Thomas didn't have that same privilege.

"Whilst it is lovely to see you back around here Mr Ellis, if you two have finished your conversation, then get out of my kitchen before you become part of the beef stew!" Mrs Patmore chided with her usual enthusiasm.

"Very sorry Mrs Patmore," Richard said with his usual grace. "Lead the way Mr Barrow."

...

"Well that certainly hit the spot." Richard sat down on the corner of Thomas's desk, just like he always used to, as Thomas poured them both a small glass of whisky. Now that his hunger was satisfied Thomas felt a lot more comfortable, and after staying in the servants hall for tea long after their evening meal had been cleared away, Thomas was happy that he and Richard finally had some time alone.

"It did, although I was worried they wouldn't let you get away. Everyone was so pleased to see you. It makes me happy to see that you are admired so much by them all. They missed you." Thomas took the glass from Richard's grasp and savored a couple of sips, the drink warm and tingling on his lips and tongue. "But I've wanted you to myself since you arrived. Just us, here, like old times."

"They are a wonderful bunch, I'm very grateful to them for helping you and being with you when I could not." Richard's look was distant.

"You are okay though? Only this morning I was worried about you." Thomas, sat in his chair, inched his fingers over the desk towards Richard's left hand.

"I was a bit nervous I reckon and I had a few...resurfaced memories. But I'm fine Thomas. I got right back into the swing of things as I said I would. Chris was in a fine mood today, and that helped, even if his mindless whistling was not entirely tuneful." Richard did a good job of reassuring him, Thomas was willing to believe it, just so he could have back what he almost lost. Moments like this, sitting in a dim office on a hard chair, but just the two of them. But he knew that Richard would need time to let the scars in his mind heal, as they always took longer than the physical ones. He knew that from his own bitter experience. "But I'm physically able again and that is a mighty relief. I talked to Chris about painting the shop front up again, freshening up the colours. I told him we could hire the same fellow who did the sign but, since thinking about it, I reckon I could do it myself."

"No. Absolutely not! You are staying with your feet firmly on the ground until I am certain you are completely better. You've still got a little bruising Richard," he warned.

"Alright!" Richard laughed. "Your annoying level of concern for my welfare Mr Barrow is heartwarming."

"Thank you."

Richard finished his glass and put it down on the bare desk with a slight clang. "But I remember something that you said several weeks ago." Without breaking eye contact, he leaned down and took the glass, almost finished from Thomas's hand and placed it on the far end of the desk, out of the way. "You said something about how we will have to wait, but if we were patient...then we could have our hearts desire."

There was something about the way that Richard's voice, low and suggestive, matched his dilated pupils. That could have just been the low light levels but, as Richard slid off the desk and knelt down slowly before him, sliding a hand up the outside of his left trouser leg and into his left pocket, Thomas's breath hitched. "What are you doing?" Richard's hand searched his pocket, his fingers painstakingly close, before he retreated suddenly, clasping the bunch of keys Thomas had put in there earlier.

"I have put you through so much." Richard stood and walked towards the door. "You've taken care of me." The keys jangled against each other as he slipped the key into the lock, turned it once, tested the handle, and returned back towards him, the keys left jangling in the lock. "I would love nothing more than to return the favour." Richard knelt back down and Thomas watched in awe as he slid his hand up between the small gap in between his legs, leaving Thomas with no choice but to part them further, as his breathing shook once again.

"You want to do this here?" Thomas's heart was thudding in his chest already.

"If you want me too?"

"Do I need to answer that?"

Richard grinned mischievously and expertidly unlooped Thomas's belt buckle and trouser fastenings. He stopped only to reach up to kiss Thomas's parted lips before ducking back down burying his head between Thomas's thighs. "Oh God!" Thomas exclaimed, though as quietly as he could so his words came out as a muffled whisper as he buried his fist into his hand. His head was thrown back in his chair as he felt Richard's mouth around him, he glanced down which only made him gasp further. He buried his fist into his mouth further. If they were home, he would have the freedom of speech, but even with the door locked, he was concerned with the thickness of the walls. But Richard showed no mercy, every little sensation whipped Thomas up into a frenzy. He knew how he must look, an undignified mess and, as Richard's teeth grazed him, just ever so slightly, he grabbed hold of the hair on the back of Richard's head as moaned into his hand. Only Richard could do this, heighten his senses to the point where he wouldn't be surprised if they created their own electricity. That is how he makes him feel, charged and then undone, perfectly out of control.

...

Thomas felt weak at the knees as he fiddled with the key in the lock of the backdoor later on. Outside the night air was biting, but the heat generated from Richard's punishing attention earlier meant that he almost didn't notice the chill. Eventually satisfied that he had locked up securely, it was a trouble to remember what he would normally check as Richard had turned his mind to mush, but he accepted all was well after he tried the door handle a second time.

"Your hat Mr Barrow," Richard said, passing him his hat, which he had completely forgotten about. Richard looked pleased with himself, and Thomas normally would find this irritating if it were anyone else. With Richard it was just...arousing.

"Thanks." He set it on his head as they turned away from Downton and headed out into the night. The darkness on the paths deepened more and more as they distanced themselves from the grand house. The clouds blocked any potential moonlight, the trees only visible across the lawns and into the distance by whatever residual light was left, wherever that came from. They walked in comfortable silence, as Thomas thought about how the entire house had been blissfully unaware of the acts its butler had been getting up to under its roof. He was grateful for his relative safety at Downton, he knew it was rare. He was relieved to have allies or at least people who didn't mind as long as it wasn't in front of their noses, but they kept quiet which was all he could ask at the end of the day. He didn't think though, that the majority would want to think about exactly what sort of things he and Richard got up to in private. Richard, who looked as though he was caught up in his own thoughts as well, slowed down to a stop and looked out into the darkness across the lawns nearer the main driveway. Thomas strained his eyes to see what Richard was looking at, but as far as he could tell, there was nothing amiss. "What is it?"

Richard shook his head. "Nothing, it's fine."

Thomas glanced back in the direction Richard had been looking in and then realised he was not looking at the lawns or the hedges beyond, but the line of trees that eventually broke out into the woods in the distance. He knew then what Richard was thinking, or more likely, what he was remembering. He reached his hand out to Richard's which hung gloved down by his side. Their fingers brushed, and Richard eagerly accepted the invitation, as though desperate for the comfort that their joined hands could bring. He couldn't risk holding him all the way home, but for now, where they could barely see a few steps in front of them, Thmas figured they were okay. "Come on," he said, giving Richard's hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's go home."

Note: Thank you so much for reading this story. It has been a long one, I think I started writing it in last June! It's also been the most challenging, complex, satisfying and enjoyable one I have completed so far. I have been using this story to experiment with a few writing techniques and to improve my writing skill. I also appriciated all the reviews, they are a real gift.

There will of course be more! I have two, maybe three one shots coming up next featuring Thomas and Richard, as well as Chris and David. After that I have my eleventh multi chapter fanfic which has been recently titled 'A light left on'. This will feature all the regular couples, as well as other characters from DA and my original characters, plus a new original character.

51stcenturygirl