Thomas was rummaging through the pile of clothes searching for the right size, while Patrick has decided to just stay behind his back and watched him in utter silence. Since last night, he hadn't speak a word to under butler and has been avoiding his look during the whole breakfast. Mr. Bagwell has seemed to be very pleasant with that turn of events- a smug smile on his cunning face hasn't been disappearing for most of the time- while, Mrs. Hughes has been very concerned with that sudden change in both men's behavior, and Thomas could be sure that sooner or later he'd be force to have a talk in her sitting room.

'That one should suits you.' Thomas said after few minutes and looked critically at chosen by himself livery. He wouldn't be surprised if it has be the one he'd have to worn while he has been a footman, as Patrick has a similar posture. 'If there'd be anything to improve, I'm sure one of the maids will do that for you.' He added and gingerly turned around to face the younger man and hand him a livery.

'It looks like my size.' Patrick replied after a look on the cloth, and to Thomas dismay, he simply began unbutton his shirt. The under butler took a deep breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in a small butlers room, with already half naked, handsome footman in front of him. Involuntarily he let his eyes slide over Patrick's firm chest and long, slender fingers tracing gently the black material of livery. He moistened his dry lips with a tongue, his breath hitched.

'Everything's alright, Mr. Barrow?' Startled, Thomas moved his eyes at the footman's face and realized that he was watching him intently. The under butler felt the panic raising in his chest, his hands slick of sweat. 'You look ill…' The lad continued with unsure voice, like he was testing a ground.

'It's nothing… Just very dusty in here.' Thomas muttered in response, not sure if it was a completely lie or not. There was no doubt he needed a fresh air. 'I thought you'd change in your bedroom.'

'Oh, I thought you'd like to see if it fits on me.' Patrick's cheeks turned pink, his hands frozen on the lapels.

'Well yes, but…ah, never mind.' He wanted to get over it as quick it was possible. 'Let me see it.' He said in demanding voice and almost get heart attack, when Patrick closed the already very small gap between them. Thomas instinctively raised his hands and laid them on the footman's shoulders, not quite sure if he wants to push the man away, or pull him closer. So far he let them rest there and feel the pleasant warmness emanating from the body hidden under the livery and sweatshirt.

'I know, the collar is a bit too tight.' Patrick said, truly believed that was the reason why the older men allow himself for such a closeness. Thomas immediately used the occasion and pulled gently at the white, rigid material, like indeed that was what he intended to do. He shivered and almost gasped when two fingers slipped inside and touched the warm, velvet skin of his neck. He could feel his pulse gently beating under his rough fingertips, and realized how much he has missed the feel of another man. 'I could ask Marie, Her Ladyship Brasher maid, to take care of it.' Patrick suggested, the pair of hazel eyes looking with interested at under butler concerned face.

'Good. Go and give it to her. You have to be ready for luncheon.' Thomas nodded absently and with a heavy heart withdraw his hands back. 'For now you can take care of His Lordship shoes.' He turned around, when the footman began undressing again.

'Of course, Mr. Barrow.' Patrick muttered behind his back. 'You don't have to turn around, Mr. Barrow. I'm not shy, and we're both men, so there's really nothing to hide and to be ashamed of.' Thomas turned his head slightly on the right. The panic returned. Did he know about him, did Jimmy or Alfred warned him about his nature? 'I only wanted to break up the tension, Mr. Barrow, I'm sorry, if I was too forward, I am…' He continued as he noticed change in under butler's behavior.

'No, it's fine, Patrick.' Thomas interrupted him and fully turned to him. 'I'd rather not want you to be seen by Mr. Carson, walking half naked down the servant quarters.' Though it'd be less harmful for Thomas, than being spot by the butler in a tiny room with almost naked, young footman. He was afraid, Mr. Carson might not be so understanding, again.

'Isn't it a bit too wide, Mr. Barrow?' Patrick asked concerned and turned around to show himself from every angle.

'Well, it should be more close to your body around the waist.' Thomas stated after a quick look at him and couldn't stop himself from rest his hands on the man's hipbones. 'Just like that.' He murmured in admiration. 'But I'm afraid we can't do too much about that, right now. We'd have to send it to tailor.'

'I don't think there's a hurry.' Patrick stated softly, but the older man was sure Mr. Carson would have a different point of view. The honor of Downton has to be saved. 'And I think a jacket it's more wide a bit higher.' Thomas watched him agape, when he unceremoniously grabbed gently for his hands and positioned them on his waist. 'There, Mr. Barrow. If we have to give it to tailor, let him know what exactly he's supposed to improve.' He couldn't bare that earnest, innocent smile on Patrick's face. Thomas was on the edge of his resistance and if the footman doesn't go in a minute, he'd just wrap arms around his waist and kissed him, just right there. He craved for closeness with another man, to feel loved and wanted again. His deep hidden feelings he'd has forgotten about for the past year, came back to life and Thomas knew he couldn't keep them away, anymore. 'Is there anything else, Mr. Barrow, or can I go downstairs?' Yes, there was something he craved to do, but definitely it wasn't anything what the footman would like.

'Yes, you can go.' He said almost in whisper and slowly pulled his hands back. Patrick smiled at him softly, not knowing what kind of havoc he has made in the under butler's mind.

'Thank you, Mr. Barrow.' Thomas didn't reciprocate that feeling, hadn't feel like he should thank him back for anything what he has done to him, today.

'How long he's going to stay in bed?' Alfred asked with annoyed face and reached out for another silver to polish.

'Why? You got too much duties to handle and feel a bit tired?' Thomas asked in a mocked tone and sat on the opposite chair to give the footman a hand.

'No, I just have enough of his whims!' He scowled. 'He's a one, big Drama Queen, that is our Jimmy.' Thomas smirked at him.

'So, what's have you done?' Alfred's head snapped up like a dog sensing a threat.

'Nothing! I only wanted to make a good deed, Mr. Barrow, that's all!' He said offended with accusation. 'If I know how he's going to thank me, I'd asked someone else to bring him a breakfast!' Thomas chuckled slightly.

'So, his humor hasn't improved since yesterday?' He asked, though he already knew the answer, and somehow he felt sorry for Alfred. The lad was only trying to be nice, and whenever he tried to do something good, it always bites him back.

'When he's bored, he's beyond endurance.' He muttered.

'That's for sure.' Thomas sighed. 'I make sure Caroline and Ivy would take care of his meals till he feels good enough to get back to work.' He promised, knowing it wouldn't take him longer to be ready to bite Jimmy's head off. If someone thought he's unbearable on his bad days, he or she should spend a day with annoyed first footman. If he wasn't sure he's a man, he'd think he has these days.

'Thank you, Mr. Barrow.' The flash of relief crossed Alfred's face, before with improved mood, he returned to his previous work. 'I don't think anyone else is going to handle him, and I thought it'd be very malicious from my side if I ask poor Patrick to cover for me. He didn't do nothing wrong to be punished that way.'

'Well, you did good, Alfred.' Thomas smiled softly. 'I'd rather not want Patrick to be around James. Especially when he's in mood like that.' It was enough he was afraid of his current position and would do anything to make a new footman feel unwelcome.

'He's nice, isn't he? In contrary to James, he doesn't make a fun of me or treats me like an idiot.'

'He's fine.' Thomas replied carefully.

'He's better than Mr. Bagwell, that's for sure. He barely talks and there's something cold emanating from him.'

'He might be nicer, but it doesn't change that he's still a footman, while Mr. Bagwell is His Lordship valet.' Alfred disagreed, but decided to keep it for himself, as a new footman came inside the servants hall.

'Have you cleaned all shoes, already?' Mr. Barrow asked in professional tone –the one he'd has learned from Mr. Carson- and fixed his hard stare at Patrick.

'Yes, I had, Mr. Barrow.' He nodded and stopped at the end of table, his eyes moved from one side to another. 'Mr. Carson said I'm supposed to help Alfred with silvers.'

'Then why don't you take a sit and give us a hand?' He asked with raised eyebrow, and after few steps Patrick hesitated, again. Thomas realized that he wasn't sure where he's allowed to sit– and after last night he couldn't blame him- so he decided to save him from his misery, and pulled a chair away from the table to give him a sign to sit on his left.

'That's very nice of Mr. Carson, he thought I'd need someone to help me.' Alfred said with a light voice, a small smile crossed his face. 'There's a lot of silvers to take care about.'

'Well, in truth, Mr. Carson just doesn't want me to be around family, until I do something with my presence.' The footman explained with a wry smile, and Thomas couldn't help but chuckle. 'Though we both know pretty well, I'd be needed to serve at table, today.'

'Now, it sounds more like Mr. Carson.' Alfred muttered sadly. Thomas looked up above the silver goblet he was holding, when Bates joined them in the room with gloomy face.

'His Lordship and Lord Brasher are going to hunt tomorrow.' He announced and sat heavily at Alfred's side.

'In that weather?' Alfred asked with pulled out face. 'It's constantly raining from two days, and it doesn't look like tomorrow is going to be better.'

'Lord Brasher isn't afraid of rain.' Patrick smirked. 'And he never leaves the opportunity to hunt.'

'What about Ladies?' Thomas asked, hoping they'd just stay in the house.

'Anna said they're going for picnic.' Bates sighed. 'We'd have to prepare the alcove, I'm afraid.'

'It sounds like a lot of extra work.' The under butler muttered. 'I prefer when they're staying in the house.'

'I believe everyone does.'

'And I just finished cleaning His Lordship shoes.' Patrick growled, ignoring amused look on Thomas face.

Mr. Carson didn't hide his indignation, when milady Brasher wrapped her arms around young Coleman and asked him to dance with her. His eyebrows drew closer, and he looked like he was ready to explode in a minute.

'It's unbelievable!' Mr. Carson said through the teeth to Thomas who just stood on his side with unreadable face. 'We're just before a luncheon, and our footman is dancing with milady!'

'Well, it isn't his fault, is it? He couldn't say no to milady, and when she asked if you don't mind, Mr. Carson, you didn't show your disapprove either.' He recalled and with pleasure watched how the man twitched. 'Patrick has already done everything he has to do, so you can say he has a free time.'

'Then he might spend that time on improve his looks.' Mr. Carson boomed.

'I really don't see anything wrong in Patrick's look, Mr. Carson. He's rather very handsome, young lad.' Thomas said without thinking and very quickly regret it, when he got a hard look from the butler.

'I hope it's only innocent observation, Mr. Barrow.'

'Of course, it is, Mr. Carson. I'm not jumping at every men who passes by me.' Again, the butler looked appalled, but didn't say a word, as he noticed Lord Brasher entering the Saloon.

'Heavens, Charlotte, leave that poor pup, alone!' Lord Brasher barked irate. 'Dance doesn't belong to his duties, I'm afraid. You can go, pup.' Mr. Carson was closed to heart attack when he has heard how Lord Brasher has called the footman, but when His Lordship joined them with a confused face, he almost fainted.

'Pup?' Lord Grantham asked, when Patrick rushed out of the room with bright red cheeks. The intensive stares coming from both butlers almost burned a hole in his back.

'A shortcut from puppy.' Lord Brasher explained with a short laugh, which quickly disappeared when he noticed the faces of butlers and his friend. 'Patrick was raised in our house and I know him since he was a baby. We treats him like a member of our family.' He explained with a sigh. 'He's very close to us.' Lord Grantham nodded his head with a small smile, though Thomas could tell he was far away from understanding that strange relationship between a footman and Lord Brasher's family.

'Still, why pup?' He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

'Well, for most of his childhood he was sharing a shelter with my greyhounds and was taking care of them, so we always kind of think about him as a puppy. There was a time, when he doesn't talk with anyone else than my dogs!' He laughed, amused.

'I think it's very rude of you, papa, to call Patrick a pup.' Charlotte disagreed. 'Let alone say uncle Robert in what conditions he has been living for all these years!'

'I couldn't let him live in servant's quarters, if he wasn't a one of them!' Lord Brasher barked, annoyed. 'I let him live with us, only because his mother, Anna, was a loyal and trustful servant, and when she died he didn't has a place to stay. He should be thankful for everything I've done for him.'

'He's enough thankful, papa.'

'Edith is sitting alone in the Library, I'm sure she'd like to have a company.' Lord Grantham suggested, as the tension between a father and daughter reached apogee. 'Carson, Thomas, you might go. I and Lord Brasher will be good on our own.'

'As you wish, my Lord.' The butler bowed and nodded at Thomas to follow him outside.

'You could help Edith with a new article, or maybe write a one by yourself.' Lord Brasher said calmer, when his daughter stayed at the place with a face like a thunder. 'You could dispose of the all energy you have for something more creative than arguing with me.'

'I'm doing this only for uncle Robert.' She snapped and stormed out of the room without second look at her father.

'I really don't know from who she inherited such a feisty character.' Lord Brasher shook his head with a long sigh and sat down on armchair. 'You thought your Mary's sharp tongue causes problems, you shall see Charlotte in action.'

'She's young, George.'

'If it was the only problem, Robert.' He muttered and ran a hand over his face.

'You mean Patrick?' Lord Grantham asked quietly with serious face and poured brandy to two glasses.

'Isn't it obvious?' He asked briskly. 'People are talking…' He trailed off with painful face.

'Is that why you decided to come to Downton?' He asked and has handed one glass to his friend, before he sat across Lord Brasher.

'Partly, yes. I was hoping that if she stays here with Mary and Edith she'd know how the things are supposed to look like, and she'd finish that silly relationship. I know we treat Patrick different than other servants, but there's still a line we'd never cross.'

'Are you sure about that?' Lord Grantham asked not convinced. 'If so far nothing changed, it's very unlikely she'd change her mind, now. Wouldn't it be easier if you just…'

'No.' He said firmly, surprising the other man. 'I made a promise, Robert.'

'I really don't know how to help you, George, if you're not telling me the whole truth. It's obvious you're not honest with me.'

'You don't know how hard it is for me to tell you the truth.' He muttered through the fingers, when he has hidden his face in hands.

'If I'm suppose to help you, you have to be honest with me. And you'd feel much better, when you dispose of that all weight from your shoulders.' Lord Grantham encouraged him, worried. 'I won't judge you.'

'But you should.' Lord Brasher said with a sigh and straightened up in his armchair. 'I even don't know from where to start.'

'From the beginning would be the best, my friend. From the beginning…'

Mr. Bagwell rushed by his side without looking at him, like he was invisible. He didn't stop even when Thomas has called after him, only hurried up to his room and closed himself in. He might be a Lord Brasher valet, but still the under butler should be respected by him, and he wouldn't tolerate such a behavior around himself.

'Lord Brasher gave Mr. Bagwell a hard day.' Patrick's soft voice rang behind his back.

'It isn't enough excuse for his disobedience.' Thomas said firmly and faced the footman. 'You can tell, Mr. Bagwell, I won't tolerate it.'

'I'm sure he'd apologize to you, tomorrow, Mr. Barrow.' He assured him with a small smile. 'He needs to get used that Downton is different than our house.'

'I'm sure it is, pup.' Patrick's cheeks turned pink and his head snapped like a dog sensing a treat. His first thought was that under butler was mocking him and somehow tried to intimate him, but when he noticed a teasing smile on his face and a gleam in an eye, he understood he didn't intend to humiliate him. He was rather trying to bury the hatchet. 'Well, I haven't asked you, yet, how are you feeling in Downton? I heard is more impressive than Lord Brasher house.' The footman began walking into direction of him room, with under butler still on his side.

'Indeed, it is bigger than ours.' Patrick flashed one of his famous smiles – the one which made Thomas heart beat quicker- and looked at him almost shyly. 'But I really enjoy my stay in here. Everyone are very nice to me and Mrs. Patmore's meals won't beat anything I've eaten so far. Our cook is terrible, I'm surprised she hadn't poison anyone, yet.' He added in confident whisper and opened the door of his bedroom. His eyebrows raised up in surprise as on the bedside table he noticed the items he surely hasn't take with himself. 'Well, it looks like Mr. Carson just left a small hint for me.' He chuckled slightly, finding the whole situation amusing. He opened the door wider, when Thomas looked at him questioningly, and nodded toward his bed. 'Next to my bed, Mr. Barrow.' He added with a sly smile, when he noticed the under butler's normally pale cheeks turned pink, and his eyes almost popped out of its sockets.

'Oh, yes.' He stuttered, feeling completely stupid. If he doesn't start to control himself, Patrick wouldn't have to talk with anyone to figure out his sexuality. He swallowed a formed in his throat knob and steadied his gaze at the bedside table where was put a simple white towel with a razor and jar of pomade at the centre. 'Yes, indeed Mr. Carson told me he feared your appearance is beyond the standard of the house.' He muttered with a smirk, couldn't believe that the butler could be so stubborn, he'd has entered Patrick's room without his consent, although he'd never has done anything like that, since Thomas remembered. 'Though I hadn't thought it bothered him so badly.'

'Well, it looks like Mr. Carson expects to see me tomorrow, the way he wishes to.' Patrick smiled slightly. 'He might be a bit surprised, then.'

'I don't support Mr. Carson in this, but it wouldn't be wise of you, to start a war with him. He's the butler, and he's in charge of the house.' Thomas warned him, afraid that this silly scuffle sooner or later will turn into something more serious, and Patrick would regret it. 'At least make some small change in your appearance, to show Mr. Carson that you're listening to him, though you might not agree with all the things he demands from you. Maybe he'd let it go at some point.'

'Fine, I'd think about that, Mr. Barrow.' The footman sighed, his good mood flew away. 'And thank you, for your advice.'

'I'm only doing what Mr. Carson expects me to do- taking care of you.' Patrick smiled softly at him, the warmness emanated from his hazel eyes. 'I won't keep you longer. Tomorrow is going to be a very tough day for us and we all have to be rested. Goodnight…pup.' Again he used the nickname, but in his mouth it didn't sound like insult, but more like caress- the way you would talk to someone you care for. Patrick knew he was looking for too much in that case, but he'd like to think that he has someone who'd look after him. He almost forgot about the previous night and he believed Mr. Barrow hadn't meant to be so mean to him. He probably just has been too tired or something upset him. It hasn't been the same kind Mr. Barrow who was just standing in front of him, right now.

'Goodnight Mr. Barrow.' He murmured and with a shy smile slipped inside his bedroom. He'd think about doing something with his appearance, just like Mr. Carson has wished. Though the only reason why he'd do that, was to please Mr. Barrow.

'You're still there, Mr. Carson?' Mrs. Hughes called surprised, when she noticed the butler coming out of from his room. 'I thought everyone are already in their beds.'

'I needed to check the list once more, before I go sleep. The picnic has to go smoothly. There cannot be any mistakes.' She barely stopped herself from a sigh.

'I'm sure everything goes smoothly, just like always, Mr. Carson.' She assured him with a smile. 'You have to rest, Mr. Carson. We all have to.'

'I know, Mrs. Hughes, but recently I have a lot of things to think about.' He sighed heavily and looked toward the stairs. 'And young Mr. Coleman gives me another reasons to worry.' He admitted.

'Oh?' Mr. Hughes glanced surprised at the butler. 'I think he's really nice, young lad, and Thomas said he's very hard-working. I think he is even pleased with him, though I noticed there was some small misunderstanding between them at breakfast.'

'I don't doubt, Thomas is very pleased with Patrick's presence.' He scoffed. 'I saw that by myself.' Mrs. Hughes looked at him heavily.

'Mr. Carson, because Thomas is just like he is, it doesn't mean he's going to bother all men who for some reason will stay in Downton.'

'He said that Patrick is very good looking.' Mr. Carson boomed like it was essential proof that he is right about the under butler.

'I'm sure all of us can say the same, Mr. Carson.' She replied without blink of an eyes. 'Patrick is handsome, and there is no doubt about that. I can assure you, that Thomas isn't the first or the last who found him attractive. And it doesn't mean he's trying to seduce him.' The butler looked bewildered. 'Let alone to say he's not over James, yet.' She added quieter.

'It was a year ago.' The butler noted in disbelief.

'As they say, love cannot be compelled, Mr. Carson.' She smiled sadly, while he huffed.

'I just hope it wouldn't end in someone's tears, again.' He muttered and glanced briefly at the woman. 'Goodnight, Mrs. Hughes.' He nodded and headed toward the stairs, having enough of the all drama as for one day.