This last one is dedicated to evitamockingbird.

Zip Me: A drabble about one character dressing the other or alternatively, shutting them up

How about one undressing the other and shutting them up? Okay? Okay.

Winter, 1926

It was late and Mrs. Patmore had assumed she was the last one to go up, until she caught sight of the housekeeper making her way to the butler's pantry with a rather preoccupied look on her face. Mrs. Patmore rolled her eyes. Six months of marriage and the two of them were still quite…amorous with each other. They thought she didn't notice, and to be fair they were impeccably discreet... most of the time.

Mrs. Patmore blew out her candle and quickly scurried up the stairs, leaving the heads of staff to their evening 'discussion' in peace.

In his pantry Mr. Carson was poring over the wine ledger, trying to work more quickly than he knew he ought to. He snapped his head up as his wife entered. "Elsie!" he said with some degree of dismay, "I've been meaning to speak with you all day. Our plans for the shooting party have fallen to wrack and ruin again."

Elsie sighed. "Lady Grantham did mention the changes. Can we talk about it later my love? It's late, and I haven't seen you all day."

"That's exactly my point," said Charles, oblivious to her. "We really ought to sort some of it out tonight, or we'll be even more terribly behind. Where are we going to put all these additional people? And what of this extra dinner with the Duke of Northumberland and his family prior to everyone else's arrival? Really we should-"

She interrupted him by plunking herself ungracefully on his lap and silencing him with a swift kiss. Subtlety did not work with Charles.

"Elsie," he said exasperated and slightly breathless. "Don't take this the wrong way love, but I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you."

"I know. It's getting in the way of my kissing you."

"Elsie, we really must sort this out." Even he didn't sound quite as sure of himself with his beautiful wife on his lap.

"All right then," she said climbing off him and leaning back against his desk. "What were you saying about the shooting party?"

Unfortunately for Charles, she wasn't any less desirable to him simply moving a foot away, and leaning (leaning not standing up straight as she ought) against his desk, but he buried this thought under his concern over their insufficient preparations.

"I was saying that there is to be this extra dinner with the Duke of Northumberland so we're going to have to find bedrooms for the six of them, plus their two staff for Friday…" he trailed off as she bent over to undo the buttons of his collar. "Elsie?"

"What?" she said innocently, slipping the collar off entirely, along with his jacket, "It's the end of the day and that collar looked a little tight. Go on, more bedrooms by Friday, what else?"

She was going to drive him to distraction, but he was determined to get through this. "Her Ladyship has told you they've requested duck that evening so – Elsie!"

Her nimble fingers had undone several buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of greying chest hair. "Yes," she mused, slipping her hand inside his shirt, not caressing him outright, but simply letting it rest on his chest over his heart. "I imagine that will throw off the menus slightly."

He closed his eyes, because when she leaned over him like that her bosom was at eye level and there was nowhere else to look. "That's exactly what I'm saying," he said in a rather strained tone, "we can hardly serve it two nights in a row so we're going–"

She'd taken advantage of the fact that he'd closed his eyes to slip back into his lap. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her to steady her and she smiled at him before adopting a stern look. "We are going to have to speak to Mrs. Patmore about switching things around," she finished for him with mock seriousness. She ran her fingers through his hair; teasing out the curl she loved so much. "And we're going to have to hurry up with the laundry if the right table cloths are to be ready in time."

"Exactly," he said, eyeing her warily. She had to know what she was doing to him, but he could be just as stubborn as she. "And I want your opinion on the new centre pieces. I'm worried they're a bit gaudy."

"And we can't have that," she said shrewdly. She shifted slightly in his lap and Charles had to suppress a groan. He was not going to make it if she kept this up.

"No, we can not," he growled. She nodded primly, and proceeded to place a trail of little kisses across his chest as she took care of the rest of his shirt buttons.

"I quite agree, Mr. Carson," she teased, stretching out the vowels and rolling the r of his name more than usual.

No he definitely wasn't going to make it if she kept this up. Time to fight fire with fire.

"And another thing," he started, taking her chin in his hand and tipping her head up to look at him. "I don't believe we discussed the breakfast before the shoot."

She replied by kissing him sweetly, but rather firmly on the mouth. "And you want to discuss right it now?" she remarked, raising her eyebrows.

Charles took a deep breath. "Absolutely," he replied, proving he could raise his eyebrows in a far more exasperated fashion than she. If this were to be a contest, then a contest it would be. "I couldn't think of a better time," he said sternly.

Very carefully and deliberately he began pulling the pins from her hair. Her eyes widened in surprise. He caressed her cheek and pushed the curls he'd freed away from her face. She loved it when he did that, and she knew he knew it. "Now, Mrs. Hughes," he said reverting to her old title intentionally, "I wanted to propose that we serve breakfast in the main dining room. What say you?"

He didn't know what he was getting himself into. She was not about to let him beat her at her own game. "A little unusual, Mr. Carson," she said, pretending to consider it more than she was able to, what with one of his hands tangling in her hair and the other running down her back. "But there are so many of them. It makes sense."

"Now, that's what I was thinking." He nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear for a moment before pulling back abruptly. "And there is the matter of all the clutter taking up the north hall."

She had to bite her lip to suppress her frustrations. "Leave the north hall to me," she said, "I'll see that all the spare furniture is moved somewhere more suitable."

His hands were growing bolder in his exploration of her body, but his face remained as stoic as ever. "You may wish some of the footmen to help you. Feel free to enlist them."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said absently, not thinking one iota about footmen, but instead trying not to moan out loud as he deliberately pulled her tighter against him.

"Good," he said decisively, and in one fast motion he stood up, lifting her onto the desk, sending papers flying. It had hurt his back a little bit, but it had been worth it to see the look on her face. Her demure façade had cracked, to the point of no repair. She responded to this by pulling at his belt buckle, undoing it in one lucky smooth motion and pushing down his trousers.

Charles barrelled on, even as his belt hit the floor, "And I'll need to you set up-

And then she silenced him with a kiss from which there could be no rebuttal. In fact, they both lost the power of speech for a quite some time. It was difficult to say with certainty which one of them won their little game. Charles would claim it was he, as it was he that got in the last sentence, and Elsie would claim it was she, because he was incapable of finishing said sentence. Either way, as they cuddled together in his chair looking decidedly pleased with each other, it was probably most reasonable to conclude that neither of them had lost.

And that is the end! You're all splendid - thank you so much for reading and for all the love you've shown the stories in this collection. Seriously, you guys are the best.

As a sort of the thank you to all of you Chelsie authors that supported this little endeavour I've written my own list of A-Z prompts for you. I'll post it on tumblr, but if that's not your scene PM me and I'll send it along to you. Take one, some or all of them and see where they take you!

I've got a new, multi-chapter Chelsie story in the works that you will hopefully be seeing sometime soon, so keep an eye out for that. Until then, in the words of the brilliant Chelsie Dagger: Chelsie On!