A/N: Hello, lovely readers! In a brief interruption to my WIPs (yes, that's plural, because I'm currently working on a long overdue update to An End To All Things!), it was Legioned's (tumblr - if you haven't found her blog, go do so, because it's wonderful!) birthday this week! I used to love writing people ficlets for their birthdays, so wrote a little something for her, sharing here too for posterity. It's a short 2x03 missing scene, amid Downton's first influx of convalescents, picking up at the end of M/M's 'no names, no pack drill' scene. It popped into my head and begged to be written, so I hope you enjoy it!

Safe Haven

"No names, no pack drill," Mary smiled and drew her finger to her lips.

She turned, and Matthew chuckled as he followed her out.

"And here was me, thinking I'd left battlefields behind me for a while…" He almost carried on the joke, to wonder whether the trenches might in fact be preferable to their warring mothers, but it felt suddenly thin and he trailed off to a dry laugh instead. Jokes such as that were suited to the front, where life was so desperate they needed the relief of it. Not here, and not to Mary.

But… here he was in Downton, in safety, yet suddenly all he could see was khaki and bandages and sickbowls against the backdrop of silk wallpaper, glass and gilt, and he felt his stomach drop. It all blurred into a haze for a moment, and the next thing he felt was the breeze on his face, fresh air in his lungs, the solid bench beneath him and a hand, reassuringly firm, rubbing across his back.

He blinked, and saw that the hand was Mary's, watched it drop back to her lap as he moistened his lips and felt a funny sense of loss.

"Heavens," she said gently, "I thought you were going to faint. Here you are, sip this."

"Thank you." He took the glass that she offered, and relished the cool, clear water that slid down his throat. A smile hovered on his lips, and a twinkle in his eye. "They might make a nurse of you yet. Im sorry, what a frightful idiot-"

"Don't be silly."

Matthew gave a slight nod, grateful that she hadn't probed for any explanation to his turn. There was something in her eyes, not sympathy, but sensitivity, and he felt that she must understand him anyway. She had asked him, once, what it was like… but he just couldn't do it, just has he couldn't have tried to explain the darkness of seeing the war so present in Downton, not just the village but the Abbey in particular. A place that should spell safety, for Mary - for all of them - safety for him to come back to. But he could no longer come back to it unchanged.

His gaze fell out across the grounds, green and unblemished, and he felt a familiar peace come over him, and beside him, the tangible warmth of Mary just there. This was right, this was safe, and Downton remained a refuge… not only for him, but for all those soldiers it now housed.

"It's a wonderful thing you're doing," he said quietly. "It's quite the sacrifice, to give up your home to help. Really, quite wonderful."

Beside him, Mary shrugged. "Do you think so? I hope it will help - it seems terribly insignificant compared to how much others give up to serve. Yes, it's our home, but we're still in it in relative comfort."

"Yes, but… most others serving have the chance to leave it all behind them, occasionally. It's hard to escape the war for a moment when it's there in your home. It's a terribly brave thing to face."

He'd meant to reassure her, or something, but found himself shaken instead by the sadness in her gaze, that seemed to search him to depths he tried to hide even from himself.

"I wasn't sure that 'escaping it' was possible," she said carefully, "even in Downton."

Swallowing past the hard lump that formed in his throat, Matthew looked away, back to the rising green slopes, the trees, the gentle curve of the gravel path, hating that she was right. If he blinked, the scene became scarred with trench lines, pitted with shell holes, curling smoke rising - no, just a cloud - and he didn't have to turn to remember the hospital van behind him.

His voice was shaky, but strong.

"Even so. It will help, enormously." He turned once more to her, his gentle smile covering the seriousness of his words. "Downton… is a paradise. You're giving these men such comfort, such luxury, to regain their health in - as much as they're able - you know, if I found myself wounded and stuck for months recovering, there's nowhere better I could imagine being than Downton."

She elbowed him fondly in the side, and they both laughed to pass it off as a joke, rather than the dark possibility they neither could dare to face.

"Let's hope our new arrivals agree. I'd better get back in and help - if you're quite alright?"

"Yes, yes, fine. I'm sorry to have dragged you away." He stood quickly, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it, and the frisson of their fingertips sliding apart made his head spin - no, God, he'd just stood up too quickly. He smoothed down his jacket and straightened his back. "I can spare an hour to help, then I'd better get off - Strutt needs me back, and I'm keen to suggest that he visits."

"Of course." Their footsteps crunched as they made their way back in. "I hope Lavinia will be able to come, too, if you manage to arrange it?"

Matthew paused a step - he'd almost forgotten, of course it would be a nice opportunity for her, too - and smiled.

"Yes, I suppose so. I'll speak to her soon and ask. Mary-"

"Yes?" She stopped, a step ahead of him, and turned back. Her smile was warm, and wide, and Matthew felt a sense of calm from her friendship and grace. How instinctively she'd seen what he needed, helped him, without a word needed or expected in return…

"Thank you," he said deeply.

She only nodded, elegant as always, smiled, and turned back into the fray, while Matthew followed swiftly behind.

Fin

A/N: Oh, how I love S2 and all its angst... Just a little moment, but I hope you enjoyed it, and as ever would dearly love to know what you thought! Thanks so much for reading :)