I hope you are still wanting to come back for seconds, as I am a hopeless updater. And I know these are a short order of tease, but come and visit when you can, and we will be giddy over a glass of wine and gossip about M/M!

"Is Mary in yet?"

"I believe she just headed upstairs to Mr Crawley's office, Mr Crawley. She said to tell you to come up as soon as you got here."

"Thank you Anna. And please, at least when it is not service, call me Matthew. It saves the confusion with the other more rightly Mr Crawley."

"And here, she made you this." Anna passed him a small demitasse cup, the tiny saucer acting as a lid to keep the warmth in.

His crooked smile showed Anna his pleasure at his coffee, still holding its heat, which also indicated that Mary had just made it. He looked up to her openly earnest face, glad at having her working today, like always, making a promise at an easy shift. He had become selfish in the rostering, favouring those wait staff that he knew did their job well, or who he enjoyed their company. And he made sure that his path crossed Mary's as much as was plausible, considering he viewed their roles as shared.

"What time did she come in?"

"She opened up this morning Matthew. Like usual." They both nodded at the admission, aware that Mary may not like being discussed so. But also admiring in the other that they were centric in their care for Mary. It had happened rather by accident when Anna, who rarely spoke out of turn, had commented to Matthew one night after closing as they stood side by side polishing cutlery.

"Mary is looking immensely tired lately. More than I have seen her in years. She works too much." Concern etched hard working lines of Anna's face.

"She doesn't seem to do anything but work. And tirelessly too." His eyes wanted to stay with her lithe form as she wove between tables clearing and resetting. The white tablecloths glowed stark against her all black clothes. He purposely looked down at his busy hands, conscious of all the others in the lit room.

"I'm afraid our Mary has little outside the family and the restaurant. Not like she used to."

"Oh?" Her implication caught his interest, keen to hear anything that may gain him insight into the woman she waltzed before him. His forehead crinkled in question, but the chance slipped away in the next instant as Mary called to them.

"Anna, can you bring some of that cutlery here so that I may reset?"

"Yes Ms Crawley."

"You had better go up," Anna brought him back staring at his espresso in hand. "You'd not want Mary thinking you're running late!" He smiled at her teasing, handing her back his empty cup and running up the stairs in the back-of-house by twos.

"Mary it has come to my attention that you need to step back a bit, and not work as hard as you have been." Robert stood in his small office, an imposing force of a man, yet his voice held the barest hint of tender concern for his eldest child.

"I don't know if I should be more affronted that my movements at work have been made known to you. Or whether it is only now that you think me working too much."

"Mary, it didn't go unnoticed that you worked harder than anyone else here before Matthew's arrival. You did do a marvellous job." His quizzical expression at her protest hinted at the reality of his understanding of her.

"Did I? I see your appreciation by your marked determination to hire him though." If she could only separate Matthew the 'Manager of Downton' from the Matthew that embodied the beating of her heart.

"Surely you can see how essential he is to the running of Downton now? I wanted to ease the weight of all the responsibility that you feel lies upon your shoulders."

"Papa, I don't just see a million bricks, leaky windows, and wonky tables. I see my life's work. Our family's life work! I have two generations of a successful family institution within the food industry to uphold." She breathed feeling how words seemed always to fall on deaf ears when it came to her father. "This is my life." There was the whisper of the child she had once been, and the woman that stood here now. "Please do not ask me to step back."

"I'm afraid Matthew agrees with me on this." Robert raised his hand in salute as Matthew entered the office, caught before his hand could knock.

Mary spun, her face a mixture of surprise at being caught beseeching her father, and shock at the knowledge that Matthew had spoken to him about her. Her eyes after last night were completely different, as Matthew saw the strength of her walls and the door to her heart shut again. She was the impenetrable ice castle once more, dressed in stark darkness closed to the light of his eyes.

"And Matthew," Robert continued, unaware of the silent conversation that filled the room. "You were right. I have thought about this coming week, and I agree that it would be better if both you and Mary started directly at lunch service, that way, no matter how long these Grand Prix aficionados stay into the night, at least you get a short lie in. Either Cora, my mother or myself will open in the morning. Just like the old days."

"Papa, surely Matthew or I can take turns in opening this week like normal? It will be no trouble."

"It's just for this week, Mary. You both have been working so hard lately, and I know that you don't leave until everything is set for the next day, anyway. There will be little for me to do, and I'll actually enjoy it. Besides, I don't have the stamina for those god awful late nights, and this week is so colossally busy that your mother and I feel we need to help out a little."

Robert pointedly looked at Matthew, seeing in him the need to object, but held his hand up in defence. "You too Matthew, I don't want to see you before five to twelve at all this week. Sleep in, read some books, eat a good breakfast. And try to keep Mary away as long as possible."

Robert missed the astounded look on Matthew's face, as he swept past him, a stack of paperwork to give Mrs Hughes.

"What the frozen gooseberries did my father mean by that?" Mary filled Matthew's vision, her question low and loaded with fury.

And the shrug Matthew couldn't help his body from expressing, did little to sooth the situation. "I fear your father may think that I have some influence in your decision making!" He looked at her then, a slow smirk spreading across his face at the thought that anyone could influence Mary.

Oh, but how he wished she may at least listen to him.

"Are you conspiring now with my father to have me step back and hand you the restaurant in all her show and style to be yours, and yours alone?" Her challenge came from the pit of her soul, peppered with disappointment at the quick turn of feelings that raged within her since last night.

She had read poetry in his eyes just hours ago, had tasted promise in the charged air between them and felt the whispers of what a future could hold. It had been tangible, and the thrill that it had given her had stayed with her all through the remainder of the night. Her body betraying the old mantra she had taught herself over the years that one had control over such a shell.

And in the darkness of her room, in the vast emptiness of her king size bed, in the soft caress of her sheets, she had allowed herself to bathe in the pale blue light of dreams.

Mary could not look at him now, aware of how her body may betray her again, of how she could melt just by his gaze. Her frustration seemed endless. Not only with herself for what was becoming a weakness, but also with her father for eagerly taking her life away piece by piece, and with Matthew for any amount of reasons if she found the time to separate them all.

"Mary, I would never willingly step between you and Downton, let alone your family. But I must admit that I am partly responsible for causing this minor change your father has imposed onto both of us."

"Oh? You so keenly rush to talk to my father, at god knows what hour? As opposed to approaching me with your concerns?"

Matthew did little to hide the sheepish display of consternation that played across his features. "You're right, of course. I should have brought it up with you." His strong fingers massaged the creases in his brow as he was, once again, about to admit to his short comings. The email that he had sent Robert at 3am seemed a good idea at the time. Matthew's mind filled with visions of red fabric that turned into wine, his mind had eventually hooked onto how he could have made up to Mary calling her in the middle of the night. He had reached for his phone and emailed Robert whilst lying on the couch winding down from the adrenalin of the night and the poignant moment with Mary.

Her tongue felt like barbs as she felt the acute sense of disappointment, and the look on Matthew's face did little to stop her from lashing out. "My god Matthew, this is so pathetically minor in the whole scheme of Downton, you had no business bringing my father in on how I conduct my working hours. If you didn't want me to be here, all you needed to do was approach me."

The way her hands spread between them, her long fingers holding the weight of air around them. A weight that felt as heavy as the world, and the gravity of where they stood with each other.

Why did they constantly misinterpret each other?

"Mary please. It is not that I don't want you. My first thought was to save you being here 17 hours a day this week, it is busy enough without you working yourself ragged. I need you to be rested enough to be in peak performance for all your regular Grand Prix clients." He had followed her out and down the passage, trying to no avail to keep his voice from carrying.

The hint of quiet tenderness slowed Mary's pace, until she paused at the top of the stairs that led down to the restaurant and turned to him.

"You did this for me?" She matched his tone, yet she was riddled with insecurities. The widening of her eyes showed to him the brittleness that lined her armour, and he wondered why she felt the need to always hide herself from the world.

"We are all tired lately Mary. I know you work harder than the rest of us. I was just trying to ensure that you were left with a little oomph at the end of the day, and that this place didn't leave you hating it after the burn out." Her body stood still, her breath regulating a deep pattern in her chest, and the only movement as her eyes sought answers in the scuffed grains of wood on the floor, was her thumb scratching the surface of the handrail. Matthew felt the need to fill the silence with words. Even if they were not the ones he would have preferred to say right now.

"I'm here to make your life easier Mary. To make it better."

"I'm not sure that easier would be the word. And saying 'better' is optimistic and an idyllic inference to a far off future." Her head arched in a sweeping gesture reminiscent of contempt, but Matthew knew it was her way of dismissing the thought. Her eyes lifted, finally meeting his again.

The light illuminated the shade. And she realised just what power he must be holding over her, as through the seismic cracks of last night, she melted a little bit more.

"You need to talk to me directly, every time. Even about the smallest things."

"Even at 3am?"

"Especially at 3am."

The swagger which he followed her down the stairs, accompanied with promises to call her in the middle of the night had Matthew's heart thumping gregariously, ensuring that the busy day ahead felt insurmountable.

Feedback is always appreciated, doppio macchiato's all round.