I'm not well versed in writing Isobel and Dr. Clarkson pairing fics, so I just wrote the two of them as being good friends (while Dr. Clarkson as a slight crush on Isobel). Apologies to any fans of this pairing who wanted sappy romance.

December 18: Down in Yon Hospital

Pairing: Isobel/Dr. Clarkson

Rating: K+ for brief strong language

Thanks to the heavy snows that had fallen in Yorkshire for the past few days, and the towering walls of white grains that blockaded the roads, the hospital at Downton became occupied by a few unlucky souls who had made the mistake of driving on the icy streets. Thus, the small establishment needed all the help it could get, and Dr. Clarkson found himself working many more hours than he would had liked so close to Christmas. It was a wholesome moment to pause in his work, and breathe calmly for a while, in between checking on the recently admitted patients. Most had broken bones and could be sent home in a matter of hours. One or two had head traumas and needed to rest for several days in hospital. A few were very young children, and Dr. Clarkson had assigned Isobel Crawley to look after some of the smaller ones, to comfort them as he diagnosed their injuries and decided whether or not to have them stay in hospital.

Dr. Clarkson admired Isobel Crawley's stamina: most nurses and even most doctors could not work constantly for days without collapsing. But since the first stream of emergency patients came through the doors, she had been on her feet, dressed in scrubs, administering pain medication and the like, and she had only taken two breaks to eat. Dr. Clarkson often thought about telling – more like ordering – to go home and rest, but Isobel was made of a mixture of stubbornness and pride. She wouldn't stop until the car accidents ceased.

This afternoon, however, they hadn't had any incoming ambulances, and the most taxing part of the day had been calming one teenager down as she cried out to Isobel to "give her the fucking medicine to get rid of the fucking pain." Otherwise, the afternoon was fairly peaceful, and Dr. Clarkson was hopeful that people were getting smart and not driving their cars about. As a result, Isobel had retreated to the workers' room, and Dr. Clarkson was relieved to find her with her feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Tina told me to put my feet up," she explained to Dr. Clarkson. "I honestly do not need to, if there's something I need to do."

"Just as well, because there is nothing for you to do," Dr. Clarkson said. "We're in the midst of a quiet hour, thank God."

"Are we?" Isobel asked. She rubbed forehead with a dry, cracked hand.

"Would you like some tea?" Dr. Clarkson asked.

"Oh, thank you," Isobel said gratefully. "I don't believe I've eaten all day."

Dr. Clarkson shook his head. "You must remember to take care of yourself. It's not just the patients that need looking after."

Isobel let out a long sigh of exhaustion. "You're right, but somehow I feel that taking a break is selfish."

"It's not selfish if it keeps you from blacking out," Dr. Clarkson told her as he heated up the kettle on the camping stove. "Matthew's still in New York?"

"Yes," answered Isobel. "He's coming back on the twenty-first, I think."

"Hopefully you will be back home and enjoying the holiday with him by then," Dr. Clarkson noted.

A few minutes, he had prepared a cup of tea for Isobel as well as one for himself. He handed Isobel her mug, and she thanked him shortly. He stood still for a moment, wondering if he would be allowed to sit beside her on the couch.

"You should sit down as well, doctor," Isobel said. "You've been on your feet all day as well."

Dr. Clarkson smiled. "If you say so," he said, and sat down on the other end of the couch, an arm's length away from the nurse.

"Are you going to Lord Grantham's for Christmas dinner?" Dr. Clarkson asked. He knew that, ever since she had come to the village, the family at Downton had invited her to spend Christmas Eve with them.

"Yes, I am going," Isobel said. "I hope that I won't look like such a mess when I go there." She gingerly touched her hair, with was wild and tangled in places. "I'm must be frightful."

"Nonsense," Dr. Clarkson. "You've been managing perfectly."

He decided against mentioning the purple shadows under her eyes.

Isobel took a satisfying drink of tea from her mug. "I've just remembered something …"

"What is it?" Dr. Clarkson asked. He hoped that her fatigue was not taking a toll on her memory and she had forgotten to give medication to one of the patients.

"I haven't put the lights up in front," Isobel said, shaking her head as if it was some great misdemeanor. "I have the fake candles in the windows, but —"

"I can help you with that," Dr. Clarkson said, quickly and without thinking. Isobel looked at him queerly.

"I mean – tonight, after work, I can help you. It will go much faster with the two of us, I promise," Dr. Clarkson added, feeling his tongue turn to lead.

Isobel, to his surprise, smiled at him. "Thank you so much," she said to him. "That's rather kind of you."

"It is? Oh, well, it's no trouble at all," Dr. Clarkson said. "I just – I know you've been busy, and when I passed your house yesterday, it looked much too dark."

"That's because I didn't go home last night," Isobel said. "I slept here last night, on this couch, in case that poor girl screamed for painkillers again."

She and Dr. Clarkson chuckled. "I hope you don't think me too forward for offering to help you before you even asked," Dr. Clarkson said sheepishly.

"Not at all," Isobel said. "I'm glad you asked; that's very charitable of you."

Dr. Clarkson smiled and nodded his head. "It is Christmas, after all, and I suppose we should all be helping out our friends."

"Hear, hear," Isobel said. They clinked their tea mugs together and drank up.

A younger nurse opened the workers' room door abruptly. "Doctor, there's a small boy come in with frostnip."

Both Isobel and Dr. Clarkson simultaneously groaned. "Do children ever go outside in suitable clothing nowadays, or it is just t-shirt and jeans?" Isobel wondered aloud.

"This world is a strange one," Dr. Clarkson said enigmatically.

The teenager screaming for fucking medication to get rid of the fucking pain? That was me two years ago. You never want to see me in hospital. Not a pretty sight (or sound). ;}