A/N: Thanks to all of you for the amazing reblogs, reviews, comments, and suggestions (one of which I have seriously taken to heart and will be using in a future chapter)!

Here we see a glimpse into more PT, a dinner amongst friends new and old, and plans for the future. My thanks to brenna-louise for beta services rendered, including catching a bit of Scottish history that I didn't know anything about (and which, because of her keen eye, has been eliminated from the story so I don't look like a fool).

Stay tuned, because Ch 36 is already penned and almost ready to go, and you'll REALLY like that one. xx

Happy (?) Downton Day - sigh.

xx

CSotA

Thursday, March 26, 2015

"Son of a bitch!"

Charles winced as he sat reading the morning paper, the sound of Elsie's cursing once again sounding from the bottom of the stairs.

And to think we've another week of this!

"Suck it up, buttercup," came Gladys's voice, and Charles placed his head in his hands and took a deep breath.

They're going to kill each other, I know it.

Less than a minute later, though, Elsie and her cane - lovingly decorated by Daisy with horse-print ribbon - crested the stop of the staircase. She continued forward to the counter, where Charles placed a rewarding kiss to her damp forehead.

"Six more days," he whispered, but Elsie just glared at him.

"Let's go! Back down now!" Gladys called from the bottom of the stairs.

"I swear to God I'm going to beat her with this fucking cane," Elsie grumbled, and Charles laughed softly.

"Please don't, because I'd have a hell of a time explaining that to the agency," he teased.

"Doubtful - they obviously have all met her before," Elsie muttered, heading back to the stairs. She turned around and looked at him hopefully. "How about you just give me a little push?" she suggested, tilting her head toward the staircase, but he just shook his head.

"You are the impossible patient; do you know that?" he asked.

She nodded. "I do, actually." Deep breaths, Elsie. "Six days."

"Six days of joy!" cackled Gladys from the bottom of the stairs. "Now get your nursing butt back down here, or you'll not even be rid of me then!"

"Isobel's here!" Daisy squealed, almost being toppled over by Max as he came barreling down the hallway at the sound of the car.

Charles held onto Max's collar as Daisy let Isobel in. Isobel greeted her, placing a kiss to her cheek as Charles ordered Max to go out and run around a bit.

"Charles, hello," she said. "Thank you for having me over this evening. I can't believe it's already time to head back - I feel as though I just got here."

"I know, although after today I feel as though Elsie's been down and out forever," he muttered, and she smiled.

"PT going that well, is it?"

Daisy laughed, and Isobel gave her and Charles a curious look.

"She hates it," Daisy said in a loud whisper. "Hates. It."

"You could say that," Charles smirked. "Dr. Clarkson is in with her now, checking on her progress," he added, waving in the general direction of the bedroom. "Kind of him to not make her stop by his office for her check-up." He looked to see that Daisy was occupied watching Max from her spot by the door and added in a whisper, "I will say this: after the day she's had, Elsie really needs a glass of wine. Or three."

But Isobel was still focused on the rest of what he'd said, the color having left her face. "Dr. Clarkson is here now?" she whispered, and Charles nodded, curious.

"He is … Surely Elsie told you he would be?"

"Um, no, she most certainly did not." Isobel licked her lips and swallowed as she briefly contemplated running out the back door.

Charles shook his head and rolled his eyes at Elsie's absolute cunning. She is truly something else! "Daisy, can you go check on Max? Maybe even walk him a bit so he doesn't bother us during dinner?"

"Okay," she said, running off to get her shoes.

Charles turned back to Isobel. "Wine?"

"Please," she nodded. "I think I'm going to need it as much as Elsie."

As though he'd heard her arrive (and maybe he did, Charles thought), Dr. Clarkson took that precise moment to come down the hallway.

"Isobel!" he said, surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Charles - can you help me for a moment?" Elsie called from down the hall.

Isobel sent Charles a panicked look, but he realized he had no choice but to abandon her with Richard.

"Of course, love," he replied, just before he disappeared into the bedroom.

Isobel watched him leave and turned her gaze toward Richard, not wanting to be rude and yet fearful of the conversation that was about to ensue. They'd had dinner the previous week - a glorious evening at the restaurant of the Misty Cove Seaside followed by dancing in the hotel lounge, and Isobel had almost been swept off her feet; if she'd have allowed it, she'd have been taken in completely by his kind words, his soft smile, warm hand on her back, and his promise of things that could be. But she hadn't allowed it because she thought she'd never see the man again, and she'd let him go with a soft kiss and a spoken wish that things could have been different.

And now, here they stood, in Elsie's kitchen, Isobel clutching a glass of wine as Richard stared her down. And so things suddenly were different - of course they were - because this was a second chance.

"Elsie so kindly invited me to dinner," she said stupidly, a huge smile plastered on her face. "I mean, that's why I'm here. That is, I didn't realize you'd be here." Stop talking, foolish woman!

"Oh," he said, taken aback and trying to fight the flush that he could feel appearing on his cheeks as his mind whirred with excitement and hope. "Well, it appears we'll be dining together once again," he added, stepping forward and brushing her unoccupied fingers with his. "She's just invited me to stay as well."

Isobel's jaw dropped, and then she burst into laughter. "Oh, Richard, I do believe we're being played by our little patient!"

His eyes smoldered, and she was taken aback a bit as he clasped her hand firmly in his. "You can't possibly think I mind, Isobel. You know where I stand."

Isobel pursed her lips and looked into her wine glass. "Richard, I told you …"

"I know what you said," he insisted, "but you know how I feel."

"I do," she said simply, pulling her hand out of his. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Why not? I'm officially off duty as of -" He glanced at the clock. "- four minutes ago." He watched as she poured for him, marveling at the grace with which she moved and the fact that her hands were devoid of any trembling despite how nervous he knew her to be in that moment.

Surgeon's hands, he thought with an inward smile.

"Here you are," Isobel said, and Richard took the glass from her, deftly avoiding her fingers since he heard Charles and Elsie coming back down the hall.

"I'm sorry about that," Elsie said. "I was having a bit of trouble getting my shirt unstuck from … ah, never mind," she finished, seeing the discomfort in Isobel's eyes and the determined look in Richard's and hearing Daisy and Max come back in.

"He's all set," Daisy announced. "May I go and read until dinner, Papa?"

"Of course," he said, depositing a kiss to her head. "Off you go."

Isobel looked after her fondly. "She's doing so well," she said to Elsie, who nodded.

"Alright," Charles said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, "you all need to get settled in the sunroom with those drinks. I'll go check on dinner and meet you in there in a moment." He gave Elsie a pointed look and a sweet kiss and made a little turning and pointing motion with his fingers.

Go on, run along, then, it said. You created this uncomfortable mess; you go and deal with it!

She just smiled at him and shook her head, rather happy indeed for the 'mess' she'd created. Before the night ended, she hoped to have Isobel and Richard leaving her house with some sort of understanding. She knew they'd gone to dinner last week - Richard had been forthcoming with details when Elsie asked. She was a matchmaker at heart, and she felt he just needed one more evening with Isobel in order to win the woman over. A kiss at the end of their last date, followed by a wish for things to be different, had sounded very promising to Elsie, indeed.

Let's hope, she thought as she led them into the sunroom.

"Don't even think about sitting on that loveseat, Elsie," Richard cautioned, and then he flushed a bit as he realized how that must have sounded to Isobel.

But he needed have worried, because Isobel only backed him up. "Too soft," she nodded, "and no support."

"I know, I know," Elsie said, heading to the stiff chair in the corner and sitting gently on the cushion she'd placed on it last week. "I don't miss the brace, but it was nice sitting wherever I pleased."

"Slow and steady," Isobel reminded her, taking the end of the loveseat closest to Elsie. She placed her wineglass on the end table and tried to ignore the fact that Richard had plopped himself more to the center of the loveseat as opposed to directly at the other end. "You've been out of the brace for what, one day?"

"Yes. I have six days more of the PT, which is absolute hell but is clearly working, and I promise to be good about keeping it up," Elsie said. "That Denker woman, though …"

"She's the best," Richard said, "but, yes she's a bit … well, let's just say we don't always see eye-to-eye. But phenomenal at what she does? Absolutely. She's the reason you're not in that brace anymore, you do realize. You could have had it at least another week."

Elsie huffed. "I do," she acknowledged grudgingly. "And I know I'm a horrible patient -"

"Which I remind her of on a daily basis," Charles said, coming down the stairs from the dining room into the roomful of gentle laughter.

"That he does!" Elsie said, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it. He sat in the chair directly beside hers and stretched out his legs on the ottoman.

"Dinner is almost ready."

"Haven't you become quite the domestic servant?" Isobel teased.

"Oh, yes - he does all the cooking, the cleaning, the washing. I'm going to get used to this," Elsie teased.

"Oh?" Richard said, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Isobel, you didn't say anything?" Elsie asked. "My, my, you do know how to keep a secret. But it's not a secret any longer." She looked at Richard and smiled brightly. "We're getting married."

"Ah, congratulations!" he said enthusiastically, and Elsie and Charles could see he truly meant it. "That's such wonderful news. When?"

"August, most likely," Charles said. "School holiday - less rain, more time to prepare."

"I absolutely insist on being able to dance at my own wedding, too," Elsie added, squeezing Charles's fingers, "and so it gives me the longest period of recovery before I head back to school in the fall."

"Autumn," Charles corrected playfully, and Isobel and Richard watched with an amused glance as their friends held some sort of secret conversation.

"Yes, autumn," Elsie replied quietly, the memory playing in her mind as she smiled sweetly at him and bit down gently on her bottom lip. "I stand corrected."

Just then, the oven beeped.

"Here we go!" Charles said, getting up and lending a hand to Elsie to help her out of her chair.

But she refused. "No, you go and get that roast out before it's overdone. I've got to get used to this anyhow," she insisted.

Under the watchful eyes of two doctors, Elsie showed off her remarkable skill at rising from her own chair. "I'm not a two-year-old; I can manage to get out of a chair," she said sarcastically, but they just laughed at her.

"Well, now, we wouldn't want to be sued if you fell," Isobel joked, and Richard sniggered.

"Certainly not!" he said. "That would muddy up my retirement plans for sure!"

Elsie turned abruptly. "Retirement?" she asked, stunned. "But you love your job!"

"Yes, well … sometimes things change," he said evasively.

Elsie stole a glance at Isobel, whom she noticed looked very guilty … and also, perhaps, a little bit pleased.

Well, well, Elsie thought as she leaned on her cane and climbed the few steps to the dining room, maybe this won't be as hard as I thought.

The friends were relaxing by the fire in the living room, chatting about anything and everything and discovering that they all had a great deal in common. Daisy had gone to bed an hour previous, bored to tears by the adult conversation and well aware that it was a school night. Isobel and Charles had been entertained by Elsie and Richard telling stories of their childhoods in Scotland; it appeared they'd grown up about fifteen kilometres from one another and, as they are roughly the same age, they had similar experiences to recount. Charles often wondered how frequently Elsie thought back on her childhood and he figured it wasn't much, but reminiscing with a fellow Scot did seem to have brought a good deal of it back, and he noticed she was a bit quieter after the conversation had turned to other things: cricket and other sport, movies and television, music, and more.

"I really need to be going," Isobel said, stifling a yawn.

"As do I," Richard said. "Thank you, Elsie, for asking me to stay. It was so kind of you, and I don't seem to get out much at all," he said sheepishly.

"Well, you're always welcome here - with or without a professional need to be visiting," she teased warmly.

"Isobel, I really can't thank you enough," Charles said, rising to envelop her in a hug. "You have been more help that you even realize."

"Oh, nonsense, you'd have managed without me just fine," she said.

"Well, I wouldn't have!" Elsie moved over to where they were standing and offered her own hug before clasping Isobel's hand. "You will return for the wedding, won't you?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me from it," she assured them. "Just send me the date and I'll make it happen."

Charles and Richard bid their goodbyes to one another, with a promise from the doctor to see Elsie in his office in two more weeks, and a vow from her to keep up the PT even after Gladys was finished with her allotted hours.

As Richard and Isobel were walking to their cars, her attention was caught by something in the distance. She veered off a bit toward the pond, and Richard followed wordlessly.

As she approached, she gasped softly and stopped in her tracks, holding a hand out to stop Richard from moving beyond her. Instead of bumping into her hand, however, he took it lightly in his and followed her gaze, and whispered a soft, "Ohh."

Off in the distance, on the other side of the pond, a rustling could be heard in the leaves and, just as he'd adjusted his eyesight to the darkness, he spotted an adolescent moose walking out of the brush. He was astonished by the size of the thing, never having seen one in real life.

"The mother will be nearby," Isobel whispered. "Don't go any closer, and don't make any loud noises. I've never seen one before, but I've heard they can charge if startled." Richard just nodded, and squeezed her hand.

They stood about five minutes watching the animal before seeing it retreat back into the woods of the neighbors' property. Richard hazarded a glance up to the sky then, noting the fullness of the moon and the way its beams reflected off the pond. He lifted Isobel's hand to his lips and kissed it, offering no words but an enormous amount of promise in that one simple gesture.

She turned to face him, and closed her eyes as he leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers.

"Did you mean it, what you said earlier? About retirement?" she whispered.

"I did," he said, backing up to look her in the eyes. "I've spent my entire life working, and have managed to save a fair amount. I can easily sell my practice, they don't usually need me at the hospital, and I think it safe to say that I've recently become more aware of what life has to offer - that it can be so much more than work and rest." He raised his hand to her chin and drew her in for a soft kiss, noting with happiness that she didn't even attempt to pull back.

Isobel knew that she was completely and utterly smitten. She couldn't possibly ignore what she was feeling, and yet she couldn't ignore the very real fact that, in eleven and a half hours, she'd be on a plane headed back to London. She had resolved to make a clean break when she'd last seen Richard but, the deeper their kiss became, the faster she felt that resolve crumble to the ground.

When they broke apart, Richard noticed that her eyes had filled with tears. He brushed them away, only to have more fall in their place. "Oh, Isobel," he whispered. "I know that you can't stay, but we need to work something out. I refuse to just let you go."

She nodded and swallowed, trying to rein in her emotion enough for an intelligent conversation. "I'm freezing," she said, and he chuckled.

"Come on, then." He wrapped his arm around her and led her back to the cars, and they both got in his. He started the engine and got the heat going, thinking that it was a good thing they were now separated by the gear shift and center console.

"When?" she asked.

He thought about it for a moment. "Two months, maybe three," he said honestly. "I'll list the business next week if I can, and then we can figure it out from there."

"I'll be back by then, for the wedding," she said. "And who knows? Maybe it is time for me to consider retirement as well."

He took her hand again and shook his head. "No, you're not ready - at least, it doesn't seem that you are." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "But I'd be willing to move. I'd keep my house, rent it out, and could get a flat in London, see how things go?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "You'd do that? Seriously?"

"I would. Isobel … I don't mean to frighten you, I truly don't. But I feel we have something here, something bright and lovely that has the potential to be wonderful … if you allow it. And I don't mean to drag you away from your life in England, because you have so many more memories at home than I have here. It makes sense for me to move; I can afford it, I have no emotional ties to the area, and I want to do this. And, if it doesn't turn into anything more, if you decide it's not what you want, then I can always come back."

"I don't see that happening," she admitted, shaking her head and smiling softly.

He leaned over and kissed her sweetly. "Good."

"I need to get into my own car," she laughed. "I do need some sleep before tomorrow."

"Can I see you off? In the morning, I mean? Meet you at the rental booth and stay with you until you leave?"

She smiled brightly at him, tilting her head as she contemplated this wonderful man before her that she'd almost let slip away completely.

"I'd like that," she said. "Ten o'clock?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Charles and Elsie looked through the bay window as Isobel finally got into her own car and their two friends drove off. Elsie leaned back against his chest and sighed happily.

"His windows aren't steamed up," Charles joked, and she swatted playfully at his arms, which were curled around her waist.

"Shush, you," she admonished. "They're not teenagers."

"Neither are we," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck.

"Stop," she murmured, not wanting to wake Daisy. "We can't - not tonight. I'm ridiculously achy and really just want to go to bed."

"I know," he said. "But I couldn't help it. Your lovely neck was right there."

Elsie turned to face him, shaking her head and smiling. "You daft man," she chided. "What in the world you see in me now, barely able to move about or do a damned thing, is beyond me."

But his face took on a serious look, his eyebrows raised as he looked at her. "I see my future, you crazy woman - and it's beautiful."

They peeked in on Daisy and Charles retrieved Fred from where he'd fallen on the floor, tucking him back in next to her before kissing her forehead. Elsie stood in the doorway, watching, her heart surging at the sweetness of what she was seeing.

"What?" he whispered, taking her hand as they made their way down the hall. "You're looking at me strangely."

"You," she said. "And Daisy. You're the best father that ever lived, surely you realize that?"

He chuckled. "I try," he said. "I certainly had a model for how not to do it."

"Yeah …"

They undressed slowly and readied for bed, Elsie choosing a soft, newer nightgown that Charles had bought her the previous week.

"I do love it," he said approvingly, brushing his fingers over the soft cotton at the hem as he kissed her.

"Mm," she hummed into his lips, "me, too. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Elsie climbed in beside him and he adjusted her pillows for her.

"All set?"

"I am," she nodded. "Charlie? I've been thinking … Easter is fast approaching."

"So it is," he agreed, scooting down in the bed and resting his head on her chest, his arm around her waist. "This okay?" he asked.

"Perfect," she said, running her fingers through his grey and silver locks. "I'd like to have a dinner here, for our friends. Beryl and her family, perhaps Anna and John, John's mum, Edith and Bertie with Marigold." She took a breath. "Mary, if you wanted her, although I'd prefer not to have Richard. But he is family, I suppose –"

"No," Charles said swiftly. "Besides, I think they have something for the staff, if I remember correctly."

"Really?"

"Yes," he nodded. "But do you think you'll be up for that, Els?"

"I do, if you'll be able to manage most of the lifting and bending - the ham in and out of the oven, the potatoes and so forth. But yes, I really do. I feel like the light is finally at the end of the tunnel, and I'd love to go to church and then just come home and be surrounded by our friends and family."

"We'll have to get an extra table," he mused. "I can move the sofa a bit, we can put two tables end-to-end, if I get matching tablecloths … I think you have enough dishes that match, yes? Service for twelve or something like it?"

"I do," she chuckled, "but it doesn't all have to match, Charles."

"It does," he argued. "But, wait a moment … ah, we'd be thirteen altogether."

"Well, what if the children have a different china pattern, would that appease your sensibilities?" she teased. "White for the children - who already won't match the adults because they won't require stemware," she added, trying not to chuckle.

He lifted his head and scowled at her. "You're mocking me!"

"I am!" she laughed. "Charles, it's Easter dinner, not a meal for the bloody Queen of England! It's about the spirit of the day, and about being surrounded by family and friends. It's not about the perfectly-set table!"

"I like things done properly," he grumbled, putting his head back on her chest. "But I suppose if the children are all at one table and the adults at the other, then I can get it all to match nicely enough … perhaps do their napkins different, too, and of course the cups could be springtime colors …"

Elsie erupted in peals of laughter, and Charles huffed.

"Oh, my God, I just adore you, do you know that?" she said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes as she looked at him. "You handle all of that, yes, do up the tables however you want - measure the distance between all the frigging pieces of flatware if you want, I don't even care. But yes, if you're willing, I would like to invite everyone." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it soundly. "Thank you!"

"This is what I have to look forward to, then? Big holiday dinners here with friends and family squeezed into the house? Us preparing the meals and fussing over the table?"

"It is," she said. "I hope that's alright."

He scooted up and kissed her lovingly. "It's perfect," he said with a sigh, wrapping himself around her.

"But we're registering for more dishes," he added, and she laughed as she squeezed him in a tight hug.

"Alright," she agreed. "I'll even let you pick the pattern."

"You'd better believe it," he mumbled.

Still not ashamed to ask for a teensy review if you feel so inclined. x