As always, my thanks to chelsie fan.

Her first thought was how soft his lips were and how good it felt to finally be free to kiss him as she'd always dreamed. Well, not quite as she'd dreamed, for she had no idea where to put her hands with six fingers wrapped in bandages. Eventually she settled for simply placing them at her sides and enjoying the way he touched her, his hands on her cheek, tangling in her hair. Slowly they both became braver, as he explored her mouth with increasing passion, leaving her breathless, almost delirious. When his tongue ran over her bottom lip she was quick to grant him access, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to be as close as possible. She would get her wish as he pulled her flush against his chest, his hands roaming over her back, skimming the side of her breast through her nightgown-

"Ch- Charles!" she broke away from him suddenly, the intensity of her want overwhelming her.

He loosened his hold of her immediately, terrified he'd hurt her in some way, that he'd pushed her too far.

"Elsie, I'm sorry." Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she turned her head away in an effort to hide them. Her actions only distressed him more. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head, embarrassed at being so emotional in what was supposed to be a happy, loving moment. "I'm fine," she reassured him. "It's just…it was just…overwhelming."

He drew back even further until he was out of her reach. "I'm so sorry."

"No!" she cried, grasping out for him. "No, I'm sorry, it was just as much my fault. I wanted…but it's too much, too fast. That's all."

He moved back towards her, pulling her into his arms and letting her head rest on his chest. "I understand," he said, stroking her back.

"Do you?"

"I think so. Elsie, the love I feel for you I think is very old…but the ability to express it in this way is entirely new."

"Yes," she whispered, her tears stopped. "That's exactly it."

He pressed a gentle kiss into her hair.

"It shouldn't be this difficult," she mumbled into his chest. "Is loving someone supposed to be this difficult?"

"I wouldn't know," he said, with a hint of amusement. "I've only truly loved one woman, and she's right here."

"You loved Alice," she challenged.

"I loved the idea of Alice," he admitted. "But I never knew her or cared about her half so much as you. You are completely different, Elsie. I could live without Alice, and I did so, quite happily. But when you left Downton I knew with certainty that I couldn't be happy without you."

Elsie exhaled loudly. "See, that's what I'm talking about right there," she smiled. "How on earth does one formulate a coherent response to such a statement?"

"It's just the truth. I love you. Simple."

"Hmmm," she hummed. "And I love you, but that hardly makes things simple."

"Perhaps," he relented. "But we'll manage. It won't always feel so overwhelming and when it does, you must tell me. Promise me that."

"Of course," she promised cuddling closer to him. He took a moment to just watch her, and run his fingers through her hair. She smelled sweet, of soap and shampoo from the night before. He wished for a moment that they could stay like that forever, her warm body pressed beside his, her hair curling becomingly around her face. But then his stomach betrayed him and rumbled. It broke their little trance, and Elsie giggled.

"All right then," said Charles. "How do you feel about some overwhelmingly mediocre breakfast?"

She used one un-bandaged finger to seek out his chin and trace along his jawline, before planting a little kiss on his chin. "I think I could abide that," she declared.

"Good, because I require your assistance."

"You do?"

"Yes, you're going to teach me to use that vile toasting contraption of yours."

"Do I plug it into the wall socket first?"

"No, no! Then the coil will heat up and you might burn yourself."

"I thought that was the point of this thing."

"Not before putting the bread in."

"Well, what do I do first?"

"There are little handles that swing the doors open; start there."

"There are a million little handles," Charles grumbled. From her spot sitting at the kitchen table Elsie suppressed a little laugh.

"There are only two," she insisted, "one for the door on each side."

Eventually he found them, and the doors of the toaster flopped out with a little crash.

"Don't go breaking it now," she chastised him, a smile in her voice. He absorbed the remark without comment, simply delighted to see her smile.

"Yes, dear," he replied with exaggerated docility. "Now what?"

"Now you put the bread in," she explained. "One on each side if you'd like to toast two at once."

"Seems straightforward…" he said, placing one slice of bread on each side. "And then I close it up?"

"That's right. And once it's closed, you may plug it in."

Charles closed up the little doors, making sure they were very securely shut before finding the cord. As he went to plug it into the wall socket, he hesitated.

"Elsie?"

"What's the matter?" she asked, frowning at the silence.

"It's not going to electrocute me, is it?"

Elsie snorted. "Are you telling me that the great Mr. Carson is afraid of electricity? After we've had it in the Abbey for well over a decade?"

"I'm not afraid of the electricity," he said firmly. "I'm afraid of this convoluted invention electrocuting me."

"The toaster won't be doing any electrocuting; the electricity in the wall will," she told him, straight-faced.

"Is that your idea of help?"

"You're far too easy to wind up, Charles. Just plug it in already."

Grimacing, he did so and…nothing happened. "There," he said curtly.

"Was that so hard?" she asked, her voice full of mischief.

"Yes," he intoned, with a hint of amusement. "Absurdly difficult. The most challenging thing I've ever attempted. It is beyond comprehension-"

"You were the one that was making a fuss about it," she protested. "I'm just trying to ease you into the 20th century."

"Drag me by the ear, more like."

"You said it, not I."

"Well- oh!" he exclaimed in alarm, "the coils inside have gone bright red!"

"It's supposed to do that," she explained patiently. "Now watch them carefully, and when they're finished on the one side, open the doors again and the toast will flop out."

"What about the other side?"

"I've no idea. I've been eating bread toasted on only the one side for years," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He smiled to see a bit of her old wit back, even if it was at his expense. "I have to open it and flip them over," he reasoned.

"Try not to burn yourself on the coils when you do," she warned. "And keep an eye on them through the top. It's much faster than the stove."

"All right," said Charles, beaming at her.

This was what he missed so much, this Elsie. Perhaps her eyes did not sparkle like before when she teased him, but they did not need to. He could see it in her cheeks when she smiled, or the way she bit her lip to keep from laughing. Sitting there with her housecoat wrapped tightly around her and her hair spilling out of the dreadful braid he'd attempted to help her with earlier, she was beautiful to him. She was still paler than he was used to, and thinner too, but there was life again. All was not hopeless between them, not if they could banter like this. In their own kitchen, she was even bolder with her teasing than she'd ever been at Downton. In his joy, he wanted so badly to kiss her again, but he grimaced at the memory of her pulling away. He vowed not to overwhelm her again, not ever. They'd find their way. He would be happy to let her lead.

"Charles!"

"Hmm, what?"

"It's burning! Can't you smell the smoke?!"

"Oh!" he was snapped out of his revere by the steady stream of smoke rising up from the toaster. "What do I-"

"UNPLUG IT!" she implored him.

He did as he was told and proceeded to chase away the smoke by vigorously waving a nearby dishtowel, trying to clear it quickly from the room.

There was a beat of silence.

"I take it nothing is on fire then?" she asked evenly.

"No, but um…" he opened the doors and two blackened pieces of bread flopped down. "The toast is very, very, very burnt."

"Is there more bread?"

"Plenty," he replied, pulling out two more slices.

"That's all right then. Though perhaps I ought to watch it this time," she remarked.

"Very funny. I'll keep a closer eye on it, I promise."

"What on earth was so distracting that you let them be burnt to a crisp?"

He'd demanded the truth always from her earlier; it was only fair he reciprocate. "I was…erm…well, I was looking at you."

"Why?" she asked, incredulously.

He crossed the kitchen to sit next to her. "Well, you see…you do this very becoming thing with your lip-"

She bit it automatically in response, and he chuckled. "Yes, that."

She released it immediately. "I'm sorry. My mother always chastised me and I never broke the habit, but-"

"No, it's perfect. It's…you."

"You like it?"

"It makes me want to kiss it free."

"You might do that," she said, biting down on it very gently. He leaned over and kissed her softly, teasing her bottom lip out from underneath her teeth and kissing it lightly as if it were injured. She smiled against his mouth and he pulled away.

"That was nice," she said quietly. "Perhaps I ought to do it more often."

"Just not while I'm making toast," he begged, getting up to try again.

She laughed. "Agreed."

A short time later they had two perfectly good pieces of toast in front of them, and a pot of tea. He put a smear of blueberry jam on hers, happy that he knew her preference from years of sitting beside her at breakfast. Proudly he slid the plate back to her. She touched her fingers around the edge of her plate and winced.

"Charles?"

"What is it?"

"I don't think…I don't think I can pick it up if I can't feel it."

Suddenly her happy demeanour was gone replaced by one that was nervous and frustrated all at once.

"It's fine, Elsie."

"No, no it's not." She hadn't realized how close the tears were to the surface until they pooled in her eyes. "First my sight is ruined, and then I go and ruin the only other way I see: my hands."

She held them up, as if to prove her point.

"Not ruined," he insisted, taking her gently by the wrists and planting little kisses on them. "Temporarily incapacitated."

"Because of me," she replied, pulling her hands away.

"You must forgive yourself for that. You said it yourself: you weren't thinking."

"Then I should have been thinking."

"And I should have been watching the toast the first time," he said kindly. "We all make mistakes, Elsie, even you once in a while. You've become very hard on yourself, I think."

She was quiet for a spell before she nodded slowly. "I think you may be right about that."

"Then forgive yourself. And let me feed you your toast today, and in a week or so it will all be forgotten."

"It might take more than a week to forgive myself," she said nervously.

"Then however long it takes," he said. "But you will, won't you?"

She thought about it for a moment, not wanting to promise something she could not do. "Yes," she said finally, "I think I will."

"Good," he said. She smiled softly. However long it took, he would be there.

Charles cleared his throat. "Now I'm desperate for you opinion on this toast, so open up," he said cheekily, tapping the piece lightly against her mouth. She smiled, wider this time.

"Mind your fingers," she cautioned, before taking a rather substantial bite. He laughed, and heeded her warning.

"Delicious," she declared, once she'd swallowed. He offered her another bite and she took it, amazed that he had made such a demeaning task into something almost enjoyable. It took them a little while longer to finish their breakfast than it otherwise might have, what with Charles stealing a light kiss every two or three bites, but it didn't matter. There was nowhere else they needed be.

TBC...