Downton Abbey:

Guy(s) Night

by Mirwalker

Chapter Forty: Unexpected Gifts

Wednesday, 11 December 1912 (cont)

Despite a "free" day in London, Thomas Barrow's list of opportunity errands made him late arriving back to the station for the afternoon rendezvous. Never mind a clockmaker's son being tardy, or a Downton footman unpunctual, Thomas didn't want to disappoint another budding professional, or leave him open to unnecessary interrogation by any others.

Pushing his way briskly through the King's Cross crowd, he finally caught glimpse of Ian sitting alone on a bench below the main station clock, picking at his sling and stretching his good hand, with his cap obscuring his downturned face.

Happy at the chance to surprise, and perhaps share a word alone, Thomas dropped to the bench beside him, boldly noting, "Pardon me, sir, but it just wouldn't be right to let a handsome gentleman as yourself-"

Looking up with a brave smile that cut Thomas off cold, Ian quickly dropped his head again, unable or unwilling to look his returned charmer in the face.

"What's wrong?" Thomas turned toward and almost threw his arms around him, nearly not remembering they were sitting in full view of everyone. "Are Mrs Crawley or the others about?" What had they done, or let happen?

"She's in the loo," Ian whispered.

"Wink, what's happened?" It was all Thomas could do not to tell London to sod off, and scoop up the other man in protective comfort. What could possibly have happened to leave him so downtrodden? Hand on shoulder the best he dared do, Thomas dropped his voice, "Tell me?"

Ian looked up at him, his eyes wet and story halting, "They got one look at me arm… But the missus convinced them to let me draw. So, they had me do… for hours, listin' things I should sketch and timin' me. Askin' for places and things I'd never seen or heard of…" He trailed off as his head dropped again. "They could tell I can't read…"

Thomas stroked his neck along the collar, shared heartache and his own rage building. "Ian…"

"Ah, Thomas!" a too cheerful voice called out, snapping both men to their feet, at an appropriate distance and with suitable countenance. "So sorry. Of course I'd have stepped away at the very moment you arrive. And, I'd so hoped to see your expression when he told you."

Thomas' polite smile toward her turned openly to irritation. Less honestly, he said simply, "My expression?!"

Isobel's own face dropped as she realized there was some disconnect at play. Her smile clinging weakly, she looked from Thomas' annoyance to Ian's more stoic demeanor.

"Thomas…," Ian started, putting his hand on the taller man's fidgeting arm.

"I thought you'd be pleased, excited even," Isobel pressed on to explain. "They've hired him. He's to start Monday morning!"

The train from King's Cross was full of north-goers, such that Thomas and Ian could only sit side-by-side and platonically watch the passing countryside gradually disappear in the dusk. Thomas struggled to withhold his smiles, bursting as he was with pride for his newly employed artist, and with rapturous joy for the continued direction and pace of their luck. Unable to understand Ian's continued lackluster reaction to the accomplishment, Thomas had also been unable to ask him about it with the younger Crawleys arriving almost immediately after the older. Since boarding, he'd been unable to get Ian to look away from the window; the only connection he'd been able to maintain was sitting so that his thigh and foot pressed against Ian's.

At York, Thomas quickly made sure Lady Mary, Mrs Crawley and their luggage were ready to board the transfer, still sharing stories of their respective London days and their shared disappointment that Matthew was not able to prolong his visit with Mary on the return trip. Without knowing the details, Thomas could tell that Lady Mary was insincere about her regret, and much amused that his availability had decreased so drastically through their afternoon alone together.

By happier happenstance, there were few enough passengers and more than enough seats in third class, that Thomas was able to slip an older couple a few coins to move up, leaving him and Ian the final car to themselves. Pulling the shades against the night, and any latecomers, Thomas pulled Ian against him, turned his chin up and gushed, "I will ask about your melancholy in a moment; but first I need you to know how unsurprised, and impressed, and proud, and pleased that the publishers recognized the gift who also walked into their lives." He kissed his way round Ian's face to the lips, and grinned as the younger man couldn't help but smile at the smothering love. "There we are… That's a better look on you."

The train lurched forward, confirming their solitary space for the brief evening run to Downton.

"I don't mean to be down," Ian volunteered, leaning in against Thomas in support of his warmer tone. "I'm excited, and grateful, I am. And I want to do you proud, and I will… It's just… I guess I didn't think it could really happen. Everythin' since you has been like a dream; I've never had it so good. But… this is all new, and big, and… and scary. And I don't want to mess up, not for you."

Unsurprised, Thomas nodded at the understandable fears of his man, new to the world; London, work, life itself was no small or easy thing. He took Ian's face in his hand, vowing, "I will tell you everythin' I can, and you'll figure out the rest, by hook or crook. You are strong and smart; but you can't just do it for me, touchin' as that is. You're a free man, a gainfully employed artisan; the world is openin' up for you. You want that, don't you?"

"Not without you."

Thomas pressed his lips against Ian's forehead, sighing at the core concern he shared, but could do little about. At least initially. "I've told ya, we can't make a life at Downton; so you have to go. But I promise ya again that I'll follow, quick as I can. 'Cause I hate every minute we're apart too."

"I know. And I don't mean to complain about carryin' my share…"

"I'd be worried if you took off too easily," Thomas grinned. "I like bein' hard to leave. So, we both have to remember it's only for a little while. And, to make it easier in the meanwhile, I had some time today to make some arrangements that will help you get by until I can join you."

Reaching into one of his interior jacket pockets, Thomas pulled out a handful of papers and explained each to a calmer companion. "Fully expectin' you to charm those printmen, I inquired with a few boarding houses near your office-to-be; Misses Babcock has a lovely room for two charming 'cousins' to share, and has poor enough hearing to mind her own business. She'll provide your meals, includin' a sack lunch, durin' the week. I've opened a bank account in both our names; so you'll have access to that for weekend meals and incidentals. Workin' late to make a good impression on the bosses, readin' classes, and your choice of churches no one you know attends… the time will fly by until I can get down after Christmas."

Ian looked pained at the suggestion they not have Christmas together.

"If I can't…," Thomas corrected half-truthfully, knowing that likelihood would need to be discussed at some point. "I also ordered a few new suits for you, as you can't wear the same thing every day; I'll just let the shop know to send it all to your London room instead of Downton. And though Mrs Crawley picked up this pamphlet about readin' courses and smoothed that over with your new boss, Mister Davies, Mrs Babcock has agreed to write down or read any correspondence for you until I can move down."

Thomas said nothing of the varied purchases whose receipts occupied his other pocket, despite being as excited about them. "We have a few days to think through any other possibilities; and I know you'll work out anythin' we don't think of." He looked over Ian, expecting him to be overwhelmed by the paperwork and details.

Instead, Ian was looking at him with a glaze of astonishment and admiration. "You've thought of everthin'. Again."

"Well, you see, I have such the muse…," Thomas kissed him. "And I checked on some possible positions for meself too; but don't have anythin' just yet. I'll give notice at Downton as soon as I do, and be waitin' on ya, in our room, as fast as the first train can get me to London."

"It's all so un-real, and that together time, so far off," Ian sighed as the train began to slow into their stop, cutting off their conversation at least until bedtime.

"It'll be hard, love, I know," Thomas reminded, as they held each other close a quick moment more. "But that wait's not forever."

Still ruing the lingering consequences of Guy Fawkes Night, the 7th Earl of Grantham was finishing some letters, and nursing a drink, in the library, as he waited for the dressing gong. As the day drew to a close, he could only hope that Mary's excursion now made her and Edith even, and brought her and Matthew closer. Edith had long stopped seeing mysterious men around the house, as had Mrs Patmore, blessedly. But Mary hadn't missed an opportunity to dredge it up to everyone's dismay. With a day trip each under their belts, and Christmas traditions to distract, perhaps today marked a true new chapter toward happier times and to new relations. He'd drink to that.

As he did so, the click of steps and creak of doors in the foyer indicated the travelers had returned. Rising to greet them, he heard Mary reporting to Carson on the dull company of the day. So much for progress on that front…

"Present company excepted," Mary threw at Thomas over her shoulder.

"It doesn't seem to have dissuaded you from hitting the shops," Robert observed, as the footmen passed by with armloads of bags and boxes. "I hope Matthew didn't feel pressured to foot the bill for your sampling…"

"It's the same as our money, if you had your druthers," Mary reminded. "But no, I've no desire to be in his debt."

"You were… cordial today, I hope?"

"I was more than cordial, papa," she scoffed, then smiled wickedly, with a quick kiss to his cheek. "As for my holiday generosity, I'd so many ideas from the wealth of catalogs I've received of late… Besides, the family has grown by two; and we must make them welcome, at Christmas above all."

Robert balked as Thomas and William went out for a second load.

"'Tis the season," Mary quipped before heading upstairs. "No peeking!"

Robert hoped the sweet success of both siblings and suitors would be worth the literal expense.

A/N: Just a fortnight 'til Christmas!