A/N: My take on the 'slipping a biscuit/cookie' challenge on Tumblr! Hope you'll enjoy and please don't hesitate to comment!

They get away from Nanny a lot: Miss Sybil, Master George and little Miss Marigold. In his view nannies aren't what they were. He hardly ever caught the young ladies running off when they were little ones.

Mrs Hughes doesn't mind much, allows them into her parlour, lets a Kitchenmaid bring in glasses of milk, plates of bread and jam. She is soft with them, much softer than with her maids. Much softer than with him.

Not that he is comparing himself to a child.

No.

Heaven forbid.

But they always do look cozy, with Miss Sybil stretched out on the floor, 'reading' a book to Master George, leaning on her elbows, her ankles swinging in the air above her. Master George turning pages, commenting on his cousin's storytelling skills, his little legs folded under him and Miss Marigold cuddled against Mrs Hughes, sometimes sucking her thumb.

And she doesn't say anything of it. Kisses the fine curls, asks the others questions about the story.

Today is no exception. Only Miss Marigold has fallen asleep in Mrs Hughes's arms and Master George is leaning heavily against her. Miss Sybil is in the corner of the settee and she and her cousin are covered by the woolen plaid (a gift from Mrs Hughes's sister) and Elsie is telling them a story of a clansdaughter with fiery red hair and a tempestuous character who shoots arrows and rides a horse through to woods. Master George is nibbling slowly on a biscuit. Miss Sybil's biscuit has already been devoured, judging by the crumbs on her pinafore dress.

"Mrs Hughes? May I please have another biscuit?"

"No, Miss Sybil. You'll spoil your dinner," Mrs Hughes says, clear and without hesitation and continues with the story.

"Mrs Hughes? Please, the biscuits are really nice and I am so hungry..." Miss Sybil tries again and Charles admires her courage.

"I just told you 'no' and nothing's changed." There's a decided edge to Mrs Hughes's voice and Charles clears his throat to make his presence known.

"Mrs Hughes? Daisy tells me that you are currently in possession of very nice biscuits."

She looks up at him, shaking her head. "I am," she says, "but as I've just told the children: no more, because it will spoil your dinner."

"Dinner is a very long time, Mrs Hughes," he replies and he feels the corners of his lips curl.

"No."

"What if..."

"What if... What?"

"What if I manage to...grab one?"

She shakes her head at him again, but she is smiling a bit, her eyes are sparkling. "They are in the tin on the top shelf, Mr Carson. I doubt you can reach."

"If I can, may I please have one?"

Now she lets out a chuckle. "What do you think?" she asks the children and they nod, Miss Sybil claps her hands.

He walks over to the wall and makes a bit of a show of reaching up and out for the biscuit tin. He finally gets it off, opens the lid and takes out his reward.

He looks at Mrs Hughes and she nods almost imperceptibly.

He put the lid back on, puts the tin back. Miss Sybil's lip is wobbling a bit. Master George is looking at his hands in his lap.

"You know what… Mrs Hughes is probably right. If I eat this, I'll never have room for the lovely fish pie Mrs Patmore is making for our dinner."

He breaks the biscuit in half and presents the children with one half each. He leans in a bit and pats Miss Marigold on the head. She curls up closer to Mrs Hughes.

He leaves the parlour, carefully closes the door behind him.

When he meets Nanny in the hall, he doesn't tell her where the children are.