Happy Unofficial Downton Season 8 Day! After years of pondering, evitamockingbird makes her first attempt at writing Richobel. Let's see how it goes! Season 1.

Thanks olehistorian for her list of prompts. I think they were intended for Chelsie, but this little story just popped into my brain in response to the one-word prompt: Respite.

Richard Clarkson was surprised, not that he had caught one of his nurses napping during a shift, but that it was Isobel Crawley. He knew very well that she had been working long hours recently, as several odd coincidences had left the hospital down several nurses during a minor epidemic. However, she was such a vibrant woman that he was still occasionally surprised when she showed herself to be as human as the rest of the world.

He scrutinized her face, wondering how she came to be asleep in the storage room. Had she planned to take a nap or had she simply closed her eyes for a moment and been unable to open them again? No matter the answer, he was glad to have found her. He could wake her now and none of the others would need to know that Mrs. Crawley had been sleeping during her shift. He was also glad to take this moment just to look at her. She was beautiful. It wasn't a new idea for him. He had often thought so. But the sight of her now, looking so peaceful, was enough to make his heart beat a little faster. He approached her, wondering how much longer he dared watch her. Before long the decision was made for him when her eyes opened and she caught him staring.

"Dr. Clarkson!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet.

"Hello, Mrs. Crawley. Are you quite all right?"

"Of course I am. But I'm afraid you've caught me up to no good."

"Nonsense."

"I was asleep on my shift!"

"You have been working a little too hard, I think."

She smothered a yawn. "I'm sorry, doctor. This won't happen again. I hope to be back at my station very soon."

"Whenever it suits you. But I think you should rest a little while longer."

"I'm ready now," Isobel said firmly, moving to leave the room.

Richard stepped between her and the door, blocking the exit with his body. "Please sit down. You will feel better."

She did not sit, nor did she back away from him, although they were now standing quite close together. "I feel fine now," she insisted.

"That's as may be, but if you don't relax a little you may just drop from exhaustion. You've been working very hard this week."

Isobel stepped to the side, attempting to go around him, but he caught her arm gently and she stopped short. His grasp was light and she could easily have pulled away, but she didn't, only turning again to face him. "I'll ask you once more to rest for a little while longer, but I won't press you," he told her.

She relented. "I'll go back now, but I promise to take another break in an hour. Will that do?"

He smiled. "It will have to do, won't it?"

She returned his smile. "I do appreciate your concern."

"I don't want you to make yourself ill, Mrs. Crawley."

"Thank you. And do call me Isobel."

"Isobel," he murmured.

She looked up, surprised by his tone. The way Richard said her name was so tender, almost like a caress. He was looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite identify. "You're the best at what you do, you know," he remarked quietly. "I don't know how we got along without you before you came to Downton."

Isobel only looked back at him, uncertain how to respond. Then, so quickly that she almost missed it, his eyes flicked down to her lips and then back to her eyes. Oh my God. She understood now. He wanted to kiss her. She knew she should leave now, but she couldn't move. "Is something wrong?" she whispered nervously.

"Wrong?" Richard seemed to return from his reverie. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, I must have been woolgathering." He released her arm and stepped out of her way.

Isobel was relieved, though she couldn't quite relax. "I'll be on my way, then," she said in a subdued tone.

"Don't forget your promise, Mrs. Crawley."

"It's Isobel," she reminded him. "And I won't forget."

He nodded. "Yes. Isobel."

She turned and left the room, making her way to the ward, but his voice seemed to follow her. Isobel. How could one word leave her feeling so flustered? Isobel. Her skin prickled from her scalp to her toes. Isobel. She forced herself to concentrate on her work, but she couldn't banish the confusion from her mind. Isobel couldn't think why he might want to kiss her, when she knew very well how often she irritated him. She felt sure that Richard respected her, but beyond that she wasn't certain. She began to think she must have imagined it. She was not sure she was satisfied with that explanation, but it seemed more likely than any of the alternatives she could conceive. How had she even found herself in such a situation? She could barely remember how she came to be asleep in the storage room…

Isobel pushed open the door of the small room and was relieved to find it unoccupied. Once inside, she sank into a chair and sighed heavily. It had been an unusually busy week at the hospital in Downton. She had worked two ten-hour days in a row and was seven hours into her third. She had no intention of giving up or going home, but if she could only rest for a few minutes, she would be ready to take on the rest of her shift. Ten minutes and a sandwich had not been quite sufficient as a lunch break. It was blessedly quiet in the little room and she relaxed and closed her eyes.

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By the end of her shift, Isobel had regained her composure and her confidence. She exchanged her pinafore for her coat and made her way to Richard's office to bid him good night. She knocked on the door and went through without waiting for an answer. What she found was enough to make her scramble inside and close the door behind her as quickly as possible. It would never do for the others to see. Richard was asleep on the little sofa by the window, or he had been until she marched into his office as though she owned it. Now he was struggling to his feet, suppressing a yawn.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Dr. Clarkson," she apologized.

He smiled gently. "Call me Richard, please."

Isobel returned him a hesitant smile and tested out his suggestion. "Very well… Richard." It felt more natural than she expected it to. "I've just come to wish you good night. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He moved toward her, an expression of concern on his face. "Only if you're sure, Isobel. The pace has been relentless around here these last few days and if you want to cancel your shift or come in after lunch I won't stop you." She drew herself up to reply that she didn't need any special treatment, thank you very much, but he stopped her. "Very well, of course you don't need any special treatment. What was I thinking to even suggest it?"

"How did you know what I was going to-"

"I've known you for some time now, and I have learned a thing or two about the indefatigable Isobel Crawley."

Richard's playful words and the sly-looking smirk that accompanied them now had Isobel feeling decidedly unbalanced. Was he flirting with her? And if he was, how did she feel about it? She wasn't sure about anything. She sighed slightly.

Richard noticed and was immediately at her side, taking her arm and encouraging her to lean on him.

Isobel laughed a little. "I'm fine, Richard," she told him, though she didn't push him away. "You misunderstand me. I'm perfectly strong. It's only my mind that's not feeling quite itself." She turned to face him. He was taller than she was, but not to any significant degree, so when he looked down at her, she could feel his breath on her face. It only took one look to tell her that he still wanted to kiss her, that it was certainly not her imagination, but at this point she was much inclined to let him, if he chose to try.

They were silent now, gazing into each other's eyes. Isobel felt herself falling deeper and deeper into his blue eyes. Richard watched her carefully and, little by little, he moved toward her until at last their lips touched. He kissed her firmly, but not forcefully, and she sighed in spite of herself. When he needed a breath, he moved to kiss her cheek and murmured her name in her ear. She whispered his name in return, almost too softly to be heard. But he did hear it and he kissed her again, this time pleased to discover that she was kissing him back. He felt one of her hands resting lightly on his chest and he slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. They might have gone on like this for some time, but a sudden knock at the door interrupted them. Unlike Isobel, Nurse Jones waited until Richard called out for her to enter, which gave the pair a few moments to compose themselves. The door swung open and Isobel spoke lightly.

"I'll remember that, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you. I will see you in the morning."

"Good night, Nurse Crawley."

With that, she left the hospital and walked briskly home. Richard tried to pay attention to Nurse Jones, but he only heard about half of what she was saying. He could only hope that she attributed his inattention to fatigue, rather than extreme distraction.

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"I'll remember that, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you." Richard was deep in thought as he walked through Downton village a few hours later, the evening's happenings running through his mind. "I'll remember that." Was Isobel just inventing small talk for Nurse Jones's benefit or was there some deeper meaning to what she had said? He also couldn't forget that she had whispered his name after he kissed her the first time. That moment would be burned in his memory for the rest of his life, no matter what happened afterwards. Richard slowed down as he approached Crawley House. He didn't know exactly what he would say, but he couldn't leave the matter without at least discussing it with her. He wanted her to be comfortable at the hospital and with him, and he thought things might be awkward if he didn't make it clear that he had no expectations.

He knocked on the door and was admitted by a maid, who took his coat and hat and went to find her mistress. She returned shortly and showed him into the sitting room. He walked to the window and looked out, though he couldn't see anything in the dark.

"Hello, Richard."

Richard turned quickly to face Isobel. "Hello, Isobel. I apologize for imposing on you so late in the day, but-"

She shook her head. "Think nothing of it. I don't mind."

"I won't take up much of your time." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Is Mr. Crawley here?"

"Matthew? No, he's at the Abbey for dinner. He won't be home for a few hours."

He nodded.

"Would you care for some tea?" she offered.

"I would, actually. Thank you."

Rather than ringing a bell, Isobel left the room briefly to request a tea tray from a servant. When she returned, she took a chair and gestured to the sofa. "Please do have a seat."

Richard did as she asked and tried to think of something to say. "Isobel, I… I need to speak to you about something. I didn't think it was an appropriate conversation for the hospital, but since your shift starts so early tomorrow, I couldn't pay a call at the usual time. That's why I've come so late."

She smiled. "I've told you I don't mind."

He nodded his thanks. "I want to talk to you about what happened this afternoon."

"I thought you might."

"Isobel, I'd like to apologize if I've offended or upset you."

"By kissing me, you mean?" She spoke bluntly, but she flushed a little.

"Yes, exactly."

"Well, you haven't. But thank you for asking."

"You're welcome. I'd like to assure you that I'm not in the habit of kissing nurses at work. It won't happen again."

"Never mind that. I have a question for you now."

Richard suddenly felt quite vulnerable. He was afraid of what she might ask, because he knew he would not be able to lie to her, no matter how uncomfortable his answer might be.

Isobel rose from her chair and sat beside him on the sofa. He turned to her, noticing that she had left a good bit of space between them. "Why did you do it, Richard?" she asked.

"Why did I kiss you?"

She rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. "Don't be obtuse. Yes, why did you kiss me? You hadn't been drinking; I know that much."

"I kissed you, because…" His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I kissed you, because I love you."

Isobel's eyes widened. She had not expected that.

"You are so beautiful," he continued. "You were so close and so lovely and… and I just stopped thinking for a few moments."

She still did not speak, trying to understand this new revelation. The more she thought of it, the more foolish she felt. Why had this possibility never occurred to her? She had no idea what she had been thinking, but it hardly mattered now.

"I really have shocked you now," Richard speculated.

"No, no. Not shocked. You've just surprised me. I'm not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

Just so she would have something to do, she picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. It was Richard's cup, but she was so lost in thought that she didn't notice. He took his tea with sugar, just like she did.

"Isobel."

She looked up at him.

"What do you think about what I've said? Have I lost your friendship?"

"What I think is that… I am not in love with you."

"I didn't expect you to-"

"But I think I could be," she interrupted.

"You could be." He pondered her words.

"Just give me a little time."

"All the time you want," he assured her.

"I suspect I'm already halfway there, to be honest," she admitted.

Richard smiled. "Thank you for being honest. You've made me very happy."

She frowned. "I'm afraid I might disappoint you."

"You never could."

Isobel set the cup down on the table. "We'll see."

He took her hand and kissed it. "It's late, darling. I'd better be going."

"Wait." She put a hand on his arm. "Before you go…"

"Yes?"

"Would you…" Isobel blushed and Richard understood.

"Of course," he murmured. He moved closer to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her passionately.

They were so wrapped up in the moment that they didn't hear the front door open and close, or notice Matthew standing just inside the open door of the sitting room. He smiled as he stepped quietly back into the corridor and went upstairs. He had never considered the possibility before, but now it seemed perfectly natural to him that his mother might fall in love with the doctor. He was happy for her. He only hoped he could manage his own love life half so well.

The end.

a/n: I'm not sure if Isobel would have worked long shifts like this, but it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility that she might, in a pinch.

Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate a review if you can spare a few moments.