Anna yawned, struggling to keep herself from flopping her head down onto the table in the servants' hall and surrendering to the call of sleep. She knew she looked like a frightful mess and not just because of the bags under her eyes. She had only finally gotten out of her nightgown an hour ago and hadn't had time to get her hair in a proper bun so there were stands sticking out of it in every direction. Her uniform had been hastily thrown on too and while no one else would notice Anna knew that it was falling poorly along her frame, causing it to hitch or bunch up in odd places. She hadn't even been given a moment to splash water on her face or brush her teeth and knew that she most likely had grit stuck to her eye lashes. In a word she looked like a mess and felt like one too.

Not that anyone honestly cared. After the night they'd all gone through Anna could have strolled through the downstairs in just her knickers and Mrs. Patmore would have just handed her a cup of coffee and asked her if she wanted a spot of cream.

It had all started when, just as Anna had gotten changed, the bell in Lady Mary's room had begun to ring so violently that Anna had thought it would shatter. While the Crawley could be a handful at times they were good people to work under. Even Ms. O'Brien admitted that Lady Grantham was, to borrow an American term, 'low maintenance'.

"I've worked for some that would ring at all hours, demanding this and that and the other thing without hardly a thank you and then wonder why you weren't in your uniform even if it were 2 in the morning. More often than not they'd smack your hand because you didn't already know what they wanted," O'Brien had once confided to her when she'd been in one of her more talkative moods. "Her ladyship and the girls have a sense of kindness and decorum. If they ring for you… you know it isn't for some frivolous desire."

So when Lady Mary's bell had begun ringing like mad Anna had leapt to her feet, telling Gwen to stay there even as she rushed out the door, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson quickly joining her, all three of them dressed in their night clothes, all three of them knowing something was wrong. Later, when pressed, Anna wouldn't be able to explain what made her know that this wasn't some normal call; it had been a sixth sense that warned her of danger. Her fears had been confirmed when she'd heard the shouting and arrived at Lady Mary's door to find the family already gathered inside, Mr. Crawley shielding Lady Mary and Sybil with his body, both he and William brandishing fire pokers, and Mr. Pamuk half dressed and looking crazed. What had followed had been a nightmare and her heart still mourned for Lady Mary and what she had gone through. It had only been through the grace of God and the quick thinking of Lady Sybil that had seen Lady Mary spared the worst of fates.

Once the vile cad had been driven off Anna and Mrs. Hughes had worked to get chairs and blankets and pillows for the family before moving to comfort William and Carson. Thomas had arrived shortly after and with barely a nod to his lordship taken up Mr. Crawley's firepoker and moved to stand guard over them, lest Mr. Pamuk return and attempt to attack once more. Time had flown by after that, Anna moving in a daze as Dr. Clarkson had finally arrived and looked over his three new patients before delivering his diagnosis to his lordship and Mrs. Hughes; the head housekeeper had made it clear to Mr. Carson that until he was better she would manage the staff of Downton in his stead. Anna remembered at one point leaning against a wall only to find, of all people, his lordship placing a glass of his own brandy into her hands.

"We've had a rough go of it and I think we all need something for our nerves," he said quietly. Anna had licked her lips nervously and his lordship, with a soft smile, had added, "Just don't tell the Dowager." That had broken the tension and Anna had sipped on the drink, not liking the taste in the slightest but welcoming the warmth it returned to her limbs. Finally her ladyship had thanked the servants for all they'd done and told them to get some rest; Mr. Carson and William left behind to be looked over by Dr. Clarkson and receive their directions from him.

By then it had been near dawn and Anna, despite her exhaustion, had dragged herself to her room to change, Mrs. Hughes passing the word along to the rest of the staff that she would be delivering 'an address' downstairs in 30 minutes. If she hadn't been so tired Anna would have found it amusing how confused and befuddled the rest of the servants were; apparently Thomas hadn't been whispering to one and all about what had happened and all they knew was that something had occurred and that several people were missing. She'd heard, passing by the various kitchen girls, hall boys, and other members of the staff, a wide range of strange and for her hysterical rumors.

"Lord Grantham is going to announce that he is stepping down as lord and Mr. Crawley will take his place! He's decided that it is time for a young buck to shape things up!"

"I heard that Lady Mary broke it off with Mr. Napier and is going to marry an oil tycoon from America. She'll be moving by the New Year."

"Mr. Carson wishes to relax and Mr. Bates will be the new butler and Mr. Carson will be his lordship's valet."

"They have to sell Downton and we're all moving to North! This is when they are going to fire some of us!"

"Lady Edith and Dr. Clarkson are getting married!"

"Mr. Crawley is a German spy! They caught him going through his Lordship's files!"

"Her ladyship is pregnant… with twin boys!"

"Lady Sybil ran off with an Irish revolutionary!"

"They are having Mr. Crawley commited. Seems he suffers from multiple personalities. I hear some are quite beastly."

Anna had been stopped several times by people wanting to know if she had heard any news but Anna had managed to wave them off and get to her room, eyeing her bed with longing before reluctantly dressing in the first uniform that she could find (and she had a feeling it might have been Gwen's, which would explain why it didn't seem to fit quite right) and hurrying downstairs to join in for breakfast, which she half ate and half thought about using as a pillow.

Luckily for her she wasn't the only one that looked like they had spent the night fighting with a banshee. Thomas' face was gaunt and his face was pallor looking while Pratt, for a rare visit to the downstairs hall, was nursing his coffee cup, having already requested two refills. Other people who hadn't been a part of the night's events but had clearly been awakened by them were also mulling about: Daisy looked like she'd been dragged through one of the chimneys rather than cleaning it, a few of the hall boys were half asleep in their chairs, and even Mr. Bates had his eyes half open, managing only the weariest of smiles when Anna glanced his way. Those that had gotten a regular night's sleep saw that the others obviously had had a rough night but any attempts to get information out of them failed, with Thomas in particular only muttering that Mrs. Hughes wanted to handle it. His desire to defer to her silenced the staff and they waited, chatting about inconsequence things until the head housekeeper entered, the staff rising as one (though not as quickly and sharply as they normally did with Pratt himself not even bothering as he was so focused on his coffee) as she made her way not to her normal seat but Mr. Carson's.

The table went deathly silent.

"Sit," she commanded. "I won't mince words with any of you, because you don't deserve that. But I am only going to tell as much as you need to know, out of respect for the family and the horrors they and some of us just faced. Last night… Mr. Pamuk entered Lady Mary's room unannounced and unwanted and… attempted to take advantage of her."

"…that foreign bastard," Ms. O'Brien spat, rage flickering in her eyes. While the lady's maid was a sour woman who didn't like anyone that much she did have a sense of honor and decorum and the idea that a guest had attempted that on one of the family clearly burned her fiercely.

"I don't understand," Daisy said, Anna grimacing at the kitchen maid's voice cut through the murmur of the startled and worried servants. "What do you mean?"

"It means he tried to do something no man should ever do to a woman," Mr. Bates said as kindly as he could. Anna mentally thanked the valet for stepping up as she honestly didn't have the patience to deal with Daisy. At times she wondered how the kitchen maid had managed to make it through life, being as naïve as she was. She'd have thought it an act but no one, not even Thomas, was such a sneak as to maintain such a performance for so long.

"But what did he do, exactly?" Daisy said, ruining at once Anna's hopes that she'd stay quiet.

"Not now," Mrs. Patmore said sternly.

"But I don't understand. Can't someone explain-"

"I'll explain later, now shush," Mrs. Patmore hissed.

Once Daisy had folded into herself from the scolding Mrs. Hughes let out a sigh before continuing. "Thankfully Lady Sybil was there and prevented the worst from happening."

"Is she alright?" Gwen asked, interrupted. "Lady Sybil and Lady Mary, I mean?"

"As well as they can be, all things considered," Mrs. Hughes said. "Lady Sybil struck Mr. Pamuk with a vase and when he was down she screamed for help. William had been assisting Mr. Crawley as he had, according to William, begun to feel better after his brief feelings of illness when they heard her scream and the two of them broke down the door and kept that… vile man… away from the girls."

"Is that why William isn't here?" someone asked; Anna wasn't sure who.

"Yes and I'll explain that in a moment."

Daisy though blinked, tilting her head in confusion. "Why did Lady Sybil hit Mr. Pamuk? What did he do that was so wrong?"

"Quiet you stupid girl," Ms. O'Brien snapped.

Daisy though had allowed her confusion to outweigh the normal timidness that kept her in line. "But I don't understand! What could he do that was so bad in Lady Mary's room? What would deserve Lady Sybil attacking him? I just don't know-"

"Of course you don't know because you have no brains between your ears you daft girl!" Mrs. Hughes finally growled, her fraying patience shredding to pieces. Daisy leaned back, eyes wide, but to Anna's horror the kitchen maid opened her mouth once more, setting off Mrs. Hughes again. "Get in the kitchen, now! If you can't hold your tongue then you can wait for Mrs. Patmore to explain it to you, the good that will do! Get, and don't let me hear a peep from you for the rest of the day you daft girl! Go before I decide that this is the last day you spend in this house!"

Daisy, shivering and with tears in her eyes, rushing out of the room. Normally at least one of the staff would feel sorry for the poor girl when she got a verbal scolding like that but on this day her usual heroes simply didn't have the energy to bother.

"I apologize, Mrs. Hughes," Mrs. Patmore said, her tone weary. "I'll have a talk with the girl… make sure she understands when it is best to shut that mouth of hers."

Mrs. Hughes waited until the sounds of the girl's crying faded away before taking a breath and addressing the cook. "Thank you. Now, if everyone else will kindly let me finish I will then take questions." The rest of the staff nodded silently, not wanting to be on the end of Mrs. Hughes' wrath. "Now then… Mr. Crawley and William-"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Bates said, raising his hand like a school boy. It would have been funny if Anna wasn't so tired. "They broke down the door? Did I hear you right?"

Mrs. Hughes looked as if she were about to get upset only to stop herself; Anna had to admit it was a good question. She hadn't realized the door had been damaged either. She'd been too busy to notice. "Aye, that's what Mr. Crawley said. He and William found it locked and had to break it down together. Luckily the lock was older than me and shattered quite easily." There were some chuckles at that; less because of the humor and more to just break the tension. "The two young men used fire pokers to keep Mr. Pamuk contained until the rest of the family, Mr. Carson, Anna, Thomas, and myself arrived. Mr. Pamuk tried to… claim that Lady Mary asked him to come but that was quickly proven to be a lie. When his lordship demanded he leave Mr. Pamuk tried to make up some horrid lies about the staff but the family would not hear of it. Seeing he was outnumbers and out of options Mr. Pamuk made to leave but decided to insult Lady Mary one more time. Mr. Carson didn't take kindly to that and… well…" Mrs. Hughes shrugged. "He struck him."

"Blimey," Gwen whispered in surprised.

Mrs. Hughes licked her lips. "It was unexpected, to be sure, and I wish I could say that was the end of it but Mr. Pamuk did not take kindly to being hit and he struck Mr. Carson right back."

"Is he okay?" Mrs. Patmore exclaimed, fear in her eyes. "I heard Dr. Clarkson was here… is that why he isn't here telling us? Is he hurt?"

The staff talked over each other for several moment before Mrs. Hughes finally got them to settle. "Mr. Carson was hurt but not as badly as he could have been."

"What do you mean?" someone asked.

It was Thomas though that answered, his voice surprisingly soft. "William. He didn't take kindly to Mr. Carson being hurt. While the rest of us men protected the ladies he… he rushed Mr. Pamuk, striking him several times and keeping him from hurting Mr. Carson any further. He may have saved his life."

"Well," Ms. O'Brien said finally, the hall having fallen into utter silence with that revelation, "that's not what I expected to wake up to hear."

"None of us did," Mrs. Hughes said. "After that his lordship revoked all signs of kindness and honor towards Mr. Pamuk. He cast him out, telling him that he could stay in the inn for one night but after that he had to be gone. I've had Mr. Napier's man gather his things and take them down to him, thus why he is not here."

"Will Mr. Napier be leaving too?" Gwen asked.

"That will be up to him. His lordship understands that he was not at fault for Mr. Pamuk's actions."

Ms. O'Brien shook her head though. "If I were him I'd never show my face again. Not after what he brought. Can't see him and Lady Mary hitting it off now."

"That isn't for us to discuss," Mrs. Hughes stated firmly, gripping the back of her chair. "Dr. Clarkson came and examined Lady Mary, Mr. Carson, and William. Lady Mary is fine but is obviously shaken up and her ladyship has demanded she stay in bed for the rest of the day; Mr. Crawley suggested she use the guest bedroom and I admit he has a good point. Gwen, I want Lady Mary's bed stripped and new sheets and duvet put on it. We'll burn the old ones if we have to but I don't want any of the family to see them again." Gwen nodded at that.

"I'll ask her ladyship if we might have the bed replaced with another one," O'Brien stated. When the others looked at her she shook her head. "No one deserves to have a reminder of… that. Lady Mary will need to decide if she wishes to be in that room again but at the very least the bed should be removed."

"Broach it but be polite about it," Mrs. Hughes stated. "Mr. Carson is also on bedrest; Dr. Clarkson said there will be some bruising and he wants him to rest so he doesn't aggravate it. You all know he won't like that so please be kind and firm when you tell him to go back to bed. Use his Lordship's name, if needed." That earned another chuckle and spirits lifted just a bit at the idea of a hallboy giving the butler orders. "As for William Dr. Clarkson stated that he did not break his hand, thankfully, but he will need it bandaged for several days and avoid heavy lifting."

Thomas once more spoke up. "Mrs. Hughes, I'll cover for William until he is well."

That got everyone staring at the valet and for once it wasn't out of annoyance or anger but of approval. Thomas, for his part, wilted a bit, suddenly reminding Anna of the young man she'd met when she'd first started and not the scheming bitter soul he'd become. He shifted awkwardly, not quite used to everyone looking at him with approving eyes.

"Thank you, Thomas. Now, the family is rather shaken by what has happened and they also understand that many of us were up at ungodly hours of the night dealing with the… unpleasantness. His lordship has canceled dinner for tonight and asked that we serve something simple for lunch and supper."

Mrs. Patmore considered this. "What if we did like we do on Christmas day, and set up some warm dishes and some cold food so the family can pick and choose what they like?"

"Yes, I think that would work quite well. Make sure that it is food that can easily be taken upstairs for Lady Mary. I don't want her to have an accuse for getting out of bed."

"I can stand in for Mr. Carson and Thomas and William," Mr. Bates said when Thomas let out a yawn. "Once I see to his lordship I'll grab a quick bit of rest before lunch. I only lost a little bit of sleep from all the commotion. With it being rather casual it won't be a bother to me. Worst case we'll get one of the hall balls… give them a chance to practice. I can guide them through and Thomas can get some rest." Mr. Bates glanced at Thomas and after a moment the footman nodded, their feud set aside for the day at least.

Mrs. Hughes, despite being tired, was thrilled that things were falling into place. "That would be perfect, thank you. Anna, her ladyship stated that Mary is not to dress today and will be served in bed and Lady Mary made it clear she doesn't want you up and about tiring yourself. Gwen, you'll see to Lady Edith and Lady Sybil. With no dinner it should be easy enough for you to handle."

"Of course," Gwen said quickly.

"I can assist later on, once I've gotten a few winks," Anna stated.

"You'll get a full sleep, Anna, or Lady Mary will have your head, believe you me." Anna smiled slightly at that, knowing the truth of that. She wouldn't be surprised if word came down that she would get the rest of the day off, after what she had gone through. "Mr. Pratt, if you would be kind enough to drive down and let Mr. Molesley know that Mr. Crawley will be staying here for the next day or so that would be most kind. See if Mrs. Crawley could spare him… it would be helpful to have another set of hands for today, at least, until William and Thomas and Mr. Carson are back to full strength. After that his lordship said you might have the day off… the Dowager will be most likely around by lunch today and if we need a driver I am sure she can spare her's." Pratt nodded in thanks to that. Mrs. Hughes cleared her throat before looking at everyone carefully. "This house avoided a tragedy last night and we have Mr. Crawley, Lady Sybil, and William to thank for that. But that doesn't mean that we can begin flapping our lips about what happened to all that want to hear it. The story will get out, I'm sure of that, but I don't want to hear that it came from any of us. I ask that you show respect for Lady Mary… what she went through no one, man or woman, should ever face, even if Providence smiled upon her and saw her avoid the worst of it." The staff murmured in agreement at that; there was gossip and then there were situations like this. "Right… well then, off you go."

"Mrs. Hughes," O'Brien said at the servants began to break up, "after I see to her ladyship I can work with Mrs. Patmore to keep an eye on this lot. You need your rest too. I'll make it clear to them that you are left alone for a bit, to get some rest."

"Thank you for that, Ms. O'Brien. I truly appreciated it." The head housekeeper let out a yawn. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry. But I suppose that was your point to begin with."

The two moved out of Anna's earshot and she began to make her way towards the door only for Mr. Bates to stop her. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"I'm fine, just tired. Lucky for me I avoided most of it. Honestly they could have managed had I stayed in bed."

"Still, it scares me that you were even in the same room as that beast."

Anna blinked at that. She wasn't feeling kindly too Mr. Pamuk either but there was an odd edge to Mr. Bates' words… that and something else she couldn't identify. A hint of rage tinted with… regret? "Well, he's gone now and I doubt we'll ever see him again."

"Hmmm… yes, I agree to that. Well, I need to see to his lordship. I imagine I'll be spending more time allowing him to vent his frustrations and fears than actually dressing him." With that he limped off, Anna watching him go with a tied smile. That was just like Mr. Bates, realizing when a person needed his help… even if he didn't need to lift a finger to do so.

As she made for the stairs she noticed Thomas staring at her and when she met his eyes he motioned for her to follow him off into one of the storerooms. Anna quickly followed, wondering what the footman was up to but knowing that at the very least she was safe around him. Thomas was a sneak and a pot stirrer but he had never caused her harm. They had an understanding that they were not enemies and while they would disagree on things the two would never come at it in battle. When she'd first begun assisting Lady Mary Thomas had only asked her once what she discussed with the girls. Knowing how he was with O'Brien she'd gently but firmly told him she would never let slip private information; she would speak with him about any other matters but she would never ask him for information and said he must respect that the same would be true of her. Thomas has smiled at that, said he respected her wishes, and had never pressured her again. Nor had he shown any annoyance at her choice. It was clear to him that he saw her as an innocent party and would never involve her in his games. Would he prefer her on his side? Of course. But he also didn't see her on the opposite side.

Shutting the door behind them Thomas turned and Anna was struck by how venerable he suddenly looked. The cool mask he normally wore was gone as was the sneering, mocking smile he'd adopt when he was toying with William or Mr. Bates. Instead he looked at her with a mixture of confusion and appreciation.

"Why… that is… if I may ask… why did you-"

Anna, feeling sorry for him, placed a hand on his arm. "Why did I lie about you flirting with me?" Thomas nodded and Anna smiled. "Because what he would have done to you wouldn't have been fair."

"You mean spreading lies… saying I was… that way?"

"No," Anna said. "I mean him using such things as a weapon against you." She felt him seize up and she locked eyes with him. "He blackmailed you, didn't he? Forced you to reveal which room was Lady Mary's? That's how he found her."

Thomas slowly, painfully, nodded his head. "I thought… he played me as he did Lady Mary and then when he had me in his power he made me a weapon in his attack upon her."

"Then he is worse scum than I'd thought moments ago and I wish him nothing but death," Anna said firmly. Thomas swallowed, struck by her words, and Anna patted his arm again. "I will never tell a soul. You have my word."

The footman blinked at that. "There… there aren't too many people in this world that I can say have been kind to me. In fact I would have said yesterday there were none. You and Lady Sybil have proven me wrong. I don't know how she knows… but she does and she moved to save me. I'll never forget that. And what you've done for me."

"I'm glad." Anna paused, a bit of mischief trickling into her next words. "If I were cruel I'd say you'd have to be nicer to Mr. Bates to pay me back."

Thomas actually snickered at that. "Thank God you aren't as bad as me then." Anna shook her head, chuckling as well. "I truly mean it… thank you Anna."

"You have nothing to thank me for, Thomas. Nothing at all. Now… let's both get some rest."

"After you, my lady," Thomas said gallantly and Anna giggled before yawning, her bed calling to her.

~A~O~O~O~F~

"'What a woman-oh what a woman!' cried the King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this epistle. 'Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity she was not on my level?' 'From what I have seen of the lady, she seems, indeed, to be on a very different level to your Majesty.'"

Mary snorted at that. "That is one way to put it."

Matthew smirked as he looked up from the book he was reading from. He was seated next to the bed that he'd been meant to sleep in the night before but which now contained the woman that was both his past wife and the woman he would one day marry, God willing. She was propped up with some pillows, a glass of water beside her, her biscuit jar half empty though that was from Matthew nibbling on them as much as Mary. The sun had long risen but per Dr. Clarkson's orders Mary was to remain in bed for the rest of the day and Matthew, after grabbing a bit of sleep curled up in Mary's room while they'd waited for Dr. Clarkson to look over Carson and William, had decided that today he would ensure that Mary would not go stir crazy. He knew the woman he loved and if left to her own devices she'd have gotten up, decided to start her day, only to remember that she'd told Anna to rest and thus attempt to dress herself. And while Mary was a fierce, independent woman… she was utter rubbish when it came to dressing herself. Matthew had always found it funny to watch her attempt to clothe herself; it was like watching a farce on stage. She'd hop about struggling to put on her stockings, tripping over furniture and flailing about like a drunkard before half the time ripping something. The best case scenario would have seen Mary storm down stairs wearing a dress with no corset, missing a shoe, and with her hat pinned to her hem.

Thus he'd asked Anna, before she'd left to get some sleep herself, to help Mary into a one of her most modest nightgown (and commanding her to destroy the old one; if he had to board up her room and move her to another wing he would if it meant not facing nightmares over what had nearly happened with the Prick). He'd then gotten a newly arrived Molesley to help him dress in another of the guest rooms, grabbed a few books from the library, and then marched right back to Mary, pulling a chair up to her bed and beginning to read aloud before she had a chance to complain. She'd sputtered a bit but soon quieted down, allowing Matthew to read to her while she simply relaxed.

"I thought you'd enjoy that one."

"Because a woman of talent and cunning outsmarted the world's greatest detective and the King of a sovereign country?"

"And a middle class woman too," Matthew teased. "Imagine what you could have done."

Mary leveled a dry look at him. It amazed him how her wearing a nightgown and with her hair down the look lost so much of its fierceness. "I don't know…would I have the freedom to do that? The upper class is so ruled by our structured lives."

"You'd pay someone to live your structured life so you could beat Holmes," Matthew quipped.

"One of these days you will not have the right answer, Matthew Crawley. I hope to be there to see it."

"I hope so too," Matthew said.

"So, that is your favorite mystery?" Mary asked.

"Very much so, yes."

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"I just find it… odd… that your favorite mystery is one where the great detective failed."

Matthew shook his head. "Not failed. Outsmarted. There is a difference."

"I don't see how."

"Holmes is rendered mortal here. He can be tricked, fooled… his mind isn't absolute. I like it because if someone like that can make a mistake, be outsmarted by someone… someone who he did not think his better, based on his opinion on women, it makes me feel better about my own mistakes."

Mary considered this. "…you just like it that the beautiful singer chose the lawyer instead of the detective or the king."

"There is that too," Matthew chuckled, reaching out and patting her hand before returning to the book. "Now then, shall I continue?"

"What is the next one called?" Mary asked, leaning back against the pillows but not removing her hand from his.

"The Red-Headed League."

"Crikey, with a title like that it could be anything."

Matthew opened his mouth to say something only for Bates to enter. "The Dowager Countess, my lady." He quickly got to his feet, Mary sitting up a bit straighter and Matthew figured she would have gotten completely out of bed had her grandmother not shot her a knowing look.

"Thank you, Bates, I can handle it from here," the Dowager said, her cane tapping on the floor as she made her way over to the bed. "And don't you dare get up for me, Mary. I've already talked with your father and mother and they relayed Dr. Clarkson's orders. Normally I feel doctors can be a bit too cautious for my tastes, always wanting to test this or study that… though now that I think about that it does explain your mother, Matthew." He chuckled at that, knowing that if the shoe were on the other foot his mother would have delivered her own playful mockery about the Dowager. "But in this case he is all too right. You've had a horrid time and rest is the best medicine."

"I don't like being wrapped up like a piece of fine china, Granny," Mary huffed, folding her arms over her chest. "It's not like I had the flu or something."

"Oh, I would say not! I can't beat the flu with my cane if I ever see it again!" Violet reached out and patted Mary's hand. "But it wasn't just you that suffered, my dear. All of us have been given a fright so you must forgive us for being cautious now."

"I suppose, Granny." She glanced over at Matthew and he forced himself not to beam at the gentle true smile he sent his way. "At the very least there is someone in this house willing to ensure I don't go mad from boredom while I wait for Dr. Clarkson to give me permission to move about like an adult."

Violet turned to study Matthew and he fought the urge to rub the back of his head nervously. "I suppose this all seems rather improper to you, Cousin Violet. Me being in Mary's room like this…"

The Dowager though waved off his concerns though with a flip of her hand and a rolling of her eyes. "Normally I might have agreed with you but after what occurred last night I'd say you've earned some leniency. If need be I'll just think of it as your mother's liberal influence."

"See Matthew, nothing to worry about."

Violet though pursed her lips before looking at her granddaughter. "Mary? Matthew? I'm all for comfort but so informal?"

"As you said, Granny, he earned it," Mary said. Matthew would have responded but he was too busy mentally leaping about, celebrating that Mary had grown fond enough of him to use his Christian name without any titles or honorifics. It might have seemed, to an outsider, to be a minor thing, but for Matthew it felt like Christmas and his birthday had all come on the same day.

"Hmmm… yes… yes, you are right of course. Speaking of…" the Dowager turned and, to Matthew's surprised, clasped his right hand between her own and gave it the lightest of squeezes. "Matthew, when you become as old as I you learn that while wealth and titles are important none of it matters more than family. You saved my granddaughter from a horror that I…" she shivered slightly, "Well, I refuse to say the words. Know that I will not forget the debt this family owes you."

"Cousin Violet… I must disagree. I know it is terribly rude of me to do so but I must. Mary is family. You are family. Robert and Cora and Sybil and Edith are family. What sort of man would I be if I did not protect those I care for?"

"You'd be like more men in this world than you realize," Violet said quietly. A bit louder she said, "Now then, what is it that you are doing to keep Mary here entertained. I dare say this is the longest anyone has managed to keep her in bed. Why, I remember once when I was visiting she came down to the library despite having such a dreadful cold she was more slug than child-"

"Granny please, no stories of childhood!" Mary said in quiet horror.

Matthew retrieved the book he'd sat on the nightstand. "Well, clearly her governess did not know the proper way to keep a mind active when forced on bed rest. When I was young and would be confided to lay under the covers for days on end my mother and father would read to me. Something about hearing the great works of English literature read aloud makes one forget the dullness and the pain." He smiled, remembering well his father's voice rumbling as he read Shakespeare's plays or the works of Dickens. His mother had even, a few times, snuck in tales from Mark Twain, allowing Matthew to see the wild and strange lands of the Mississippi and the colorful and exotic people that lived there. "I decided to do the same for Mary here. I selected the mysteries of Sherlock Holmes; I figured she might enjoy trying to solve the mysteries before the detective can."

"I admit I'm not as good as Mr. Holmes but I at least can follow the trail of his logic," Mary stated. "And I will admit that it is easier to hear Matthew read it aloud than attempting to read it myself. Sybil once suggested I try and I was bored after the first few pages."

Matthew had known this, of course; during the later stages of her pregnancy Matthew had insisted that Mary find other things to do other than ride horses or attend parties. She'd bemoaned that there would be so little to do that by the time the baby was born her brain would have melted from disuse and so Matthew had come up with a solution. Every night he'd selected a Holmes story and read to her. At first it was only a few pages, just enough to relax her, but as the weeks had gone by Mary had demanded more, to the point that just before they'd gone to Duneagle she'd convinced him to spend the entire day reading her The Hounds of the Baskervilles.

"I think this one likes hearing your tales too," Mary had said towards the end, running her fingers along the dome of her belly. "Perhaps your papa will have to read to you each night."

He quickly forced himself to banish the memory of the suggestion that had never come to pass; it would do no good to break down sobbing in front of Mary and Violet.

"Well, now I simply can't leave before seeing if this is true," the Dowager said, walking over to the chair on the other side of the bed and settling down, her cane placed against the wall and her hands going out once more to hold Mary's hand. "Why, I can't remember the last time I heard a young man read to me… I dare say you'll make me feel young again, Matthew."

"Then I'll be happy to do so," Matthew said, retrieving the collection and settling back into this chair. "The Red-Headed League."

"Oh, I do believe my sister's husband was a part of that group. He always did try and get into any club he could find," Violet quipped, a tiny smile gracing her lips. "Go on, Matthew."

"I had just called upon my friend, Sherlock Holmes, one day in autumn of the last year, and found him in deep conversation with a very stout, florid faced, elderly gentleman, with fiery red hair. With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw, when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room, and closed the door behind me. 'You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson,' he said cordially."

Matthew continued on, occasionally looking up to stare at the two women. Other than her first outburst Violet had gone silent, her eyes half closed as she listened to the tale, while Mary had leaned back, as she was want to do, and was staring at the ceiling. He knew from experience that she was visualizing the tale as he read it, seeing it as a play being performed in her head with him as the narrator. He imagined that Violet was doing the same and he mentally chuckled at how grandmother and granddaughter mimicked each other so.

He had just reached the point where Holmes had seized the daring thief John Clay when there was a knock on the door once more. He paused, Mary and the Dowager starting slightly as they were broken from their visions of the great detective capturing the gold thief, and all three turned to see Bates standing with, of all people, Dr. Clarkson.

"Oh? Did I douse off?" Mary asked. "I thought you weren't returning till the evening."

"No, you have not," Clarkson said, entering the room and, to Matthew's further surprise, the rest of Mary's family joined them. Robert and Cora wore matching looks of curiousity and confusion while Edith and Sybil moved to sit on the edge of Mary's bed. Sybil glanced at Matthew but when he raised an eyebrow she merely shook her head; she didn't apparently didn't know what was going on either. "I'm sorry to intrude like this but I felt it best that I address you all at once, rather than risk word seeping about."

"Is everything alright?" Cora asked, her hands subconsciously going towards Mary's shoulder. "Is she-"

"What? Oh… oh no," Clarkson said, his head shaking in quick, jerky movement. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think that at all. Lady Mary is perfectly fine, as is Mr. Carson and William. They will all make a full recovery."

"Well, that jolly good but why have you gathered us here?" Robert asked.

Violet nodded. "Yes. This seems more fitting for one of Matthew's stories."

Dr. Clarkson composed himself before speaking. "Today, after leaving from here, I felt it best to check in on Mr. Pamuk and examine his injuries."

"Why would you want to do that?" Edith asked. "Better he suffer, in my opinion!"

"Normally I'd scold Edith for such an outburst but I quite agree!" Violet said, her fingers twitching as if she were imagining strangling the Turk. "Perhaps a few more hours on pain would have gotten some sense into that vile head of his. Of course he is a forgiener and you know those people have no sense of control."

"Granny, please," Mary said.

"What? It's true."

Clarkson continued. "I thought it best to see what the extent of his injuries were."

"Ah," Matthew said. When the rest of the family looked at him he elaborated. "Mr. Pamuk threatened to ruin Downton. Considering the lengths he was willing to go can you not see him deciding, once the rage had cleared his mind, to make his injures worse, so he might build a case against us? Strike himself with a fire poker and claim I did it?"

"Heavens!" Cora exclaimed, her hand going to her mouth.

"Is that why you went, Clarkson?" Robert asked.

"It is indeed," the doctor said. "The longer you wait with an injury the harder it is to tell when it occurred. My hope was to get to him and see what wounds had begun to heal and which were fresh, as these I'd be able to testify, if it came to that, he had done to himself."

"So did he hurt himself? Is that why you gathered us?" Mary finally asked. Clarkson wrung his hands together and Mary let out a huff. "Please, Dr. Clarkson, after what we went through we can handle whatever horrors that man did."

The doctor finally squared his shoulders and Matthew felt his stomach drop. He remembered seeing his father gather himself like that, strengthening his resolve before he let drop the proverbial hammer.

"I went to the Grantham Arms and the innkeeper took me to Mr. Pamuk's room. Mr. Napier had paid for a separate room, as he did not want to return to the Abbey but he also did not want to be near the Turkish gentlemen. We knocked several times…" Clarkson trailed out.

"Yes man? Please, get on with it you have us all on the dagger's edge!" Robert complained.

"Lord Grantham… Mr. Pamuk is dead…"

Matthew nodded. He'd wonder if Pamuk-

"…of a drug overdose."

He hadn't seen that coming though.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: So the reason for the delay with this chapter is that we are nearing the end of what I already have banked, chapter wise, and thus I will need more time to get chapters out. So don't be surprised if we go 2 weeks or so between updates. Unless you guys want to give me a month or two to get a new backlog and I doubt that very much!

I don't want to mention too much here as this is another chapter for people to digest so we'll move right to my plot bunny. This is another crossover idea and it starts off very simple: Matthew has just turned 11 years old and at his birthday party with his mum and dad he is surprised when an owl arrives saying he's been accepted to a prestigious school. He is utterly confused until his father sighs and Reginold reveals that he is a Squib… and Matthew has been invited to go to Hogwarts.

Basically, the story would imagine what if several of the main characters from Downton Abbey existed in the Harry Potter universe. We'd start with Mary and Matthew (who here would be the same age) arriving at Hogwarts and what would happen there. One could put them in any of the timeframes, so that they are going to school in the proper timeline (before Tom Riddle even went to the school), turning Tom's time, or during Harry's time. Harry's time would be interesting because Mary, if one made her a pureblood (which she should be) would still exist with the same mentality as she did in the show and the same style of living… but Matthew would be a muggleborn who knew of the modern world.

As for other characters I'd say Anna would have to be there (I'd make her the daughter of two muggleborns so she knows both worlds), Tom would be in Edith's year, and probably Thomas should be included as well. Also, I would make it that McGonagall was Violet's sister, thus allowing for some interesting interactions. As for what would happen, houses, so on… that would be up to whoever takes the plotbunny.