A/N: I needed some fluff and a while back Akachankami posted a lovely piece of art with Charles, Elsie and little Charlie Parks, which inspired me to write this.

If anyone could tell me why it is so hard to find the perfect closing sentence, please let me know in the comments and as always: reviews are very much appreciated!

He was walking now. His steps were steady and if he wanted to get somewhere quickly, he broke out in a wobbly run. He still held his arms up a little, especially if he was getting tired. Right now, he was sitting in a corner, playing with some old, battered blocks that Anna had fetched from the nursery. Scullery maids kept checking up on the little boy and petted his hair, cooing at him. Little Charlie Parks could wind everyone in the house around his little finger.

Everyone including Charles Carson and he was well aware of it.

Charles had been upstairs overseeing the serving of tea, which all went without a hitch. Hitches were very seldom seen these days with both Lady Sybil and Lady Mary gone. Lady Edith was not much prone to making scenes and Charles found this relative peace rather pleasant. His job was so much easier for it.

He had more time to himself and with that came lots of thoughts. All of them of Elsie Hughes. Housekeeper. Keeper of the keys. Keeper of his heart. He smiled in spite of himself. How could he even think such a thing. Such phrases were ready to be published in a penny dreadful. But it was true: he loved Elsie Hughes. He had loved her for a long time, but he had never acted on it.

Thirty years ago, Charles had casually asked what Lord Grantham thought of the butler and cook at Strallan House being married and his answer had been clear: he wasn't keen on it. Especially if there would be children involved. It would lose him his cook and the butler would want time off for every little inconvenience.

So Charles had let go of his hope to pursue the beautiful Scottish housemaid, who was clever and witty and who shared his rather wicked sense of humour. If they would not be able to be together romantically and everything that involved, he decided he would be the best friend he could be. In time they grew to be each other's family. They asked for each other's advice and gave it freely. They bickered, argued fiercely sometimes, but always made up. When he took ill, she was there, forcing the medication down his throat, plumping his pillow and bringing him endless cups of weak tea and Bath biscuits.

When he was asked to come with Lady Mary, he had seriously contemplated this. He felt the girl needed a protector. He did not like Richard Carlisle, no matter how much money he had spent to get himself a title. When Elsie had asked him if his mind was made up and he had confirmed it, she had told him she would miss him. "Very much so, Mr Carson. It pains me nothing to say it."

But he would never forget the pained look in her eyes.

He stayed at Downton. Sir Richard was no longer in the picture as Lady Mary married Mr Crawley. He often wondered if the match would prove a happy one, but at least it was a match that was strategically sound. His Lordship had been relieved and the atmosphere in the house had changed. Elsie had commented on it not long ago, when they were having a cup of cocoa before bed. Normally they would have the leftover wine or a cup of tea, but it had been a stormy night and everyone had gone up.

They had stood together in the kitchen while Elsie warmed the milk and stirred the cocoa powder and sugar with a little water to make it blend more easily. He had watched her move with easy grace and deliberation and it had taken all his resolve not to grab her by the waist and hold her close to him.

In his corner, Charlie turned around and held out a block to him. Charles woke from his reverie.

"Why thank you, Charlie." he took the block from the toddler and smiled down at him. The boy threw up his little arms and Charles picked him up. Charlie pointed at a biscuit tin on the shelf above the kitchen counters.

"Do you want a biscuit?" he asked. The little boy clapped his hands. "Alright. Lets see if Mrs Patmore left you some." Together they walked to the tin and Charles opened it with one hand, his arm still safely around the child. He handed Charlie a biscuit.
"Now, don't go crumbling that all over the Servant's Hall, my lad." he put Charlie down and the boy walked around, the biscuit in his hand, taking little bites and cheerfully babbling words Charles didn't understand.

The tin was still open and Charles reached inside. He dug up a biscuit and looked over his shoulder to see if the kettle had recently been boiled. He was in luck. He made himself a cup of tea and sat down again, keeping an eye on Charlie and dunking his biscuit in the tea. The maids were no longer checking up on the toddler, knowing he was in safe hands with the butler.

Charles looked at the boy, who was swaying on unsteady feet. "You are tired." he assessed. "Come here, son." Charles got up from his place at the table and picked the boy up, who nestled his little head in the crook of Charles neck, letting out a content sigh. Within moments Charlie's breath had evened out and he became heavy in his arms. The boy was fast asleep.

What was he to do now?

He paced up and down the room, uncertain of his plans. He couldn't do any work with Charlie clinging to him like this. He would have to settle him somewhere, but the only place he could think of that was quiet, safe and comfortable was in Elsie's sitting room: the sofa. If he put Charlie on there, he could pull the soft plaid that laid on the back of it over him and tuck him in so the child would stay warm.

He didn't dare go in there without her permission though. He checked the clock. Almost two o'clock. Elsie was upstairs, overseeing the maids who were cleaning the lamps in the library, but normally she would come down around this time to have a quick cup of tea and wait for some deliveries that might be made. She had not said anything about parcels being brought in today during breakfast or luncheon, but then again: she did not share everything with him.

However much he might like her to do so.

After what seemed an eternity he heard familiar footsteps coming down the stairs. Through the window he saw her feet and slim ankles first, then the hem of her dress. He had often wondered what she wore under that sensible black dress and he scolded himself for having such thoughts. She was looking at some papers when she came through the door and he scraped his throat to attract her attention.

When she looked up and saw him there with Charlie asleep in his arms, a smile like none he had ever seen was beamed his way. She quietly moved towards him and softly stroked Charlie's cheek.

"There isn't a more peaceful sight than a sleeping babe..." she whispered and looked straight at him. He couldn't find anything to say, all his words were drowned out by her crystal blue eyes.

"Come... you won't be able to get any work done holding Charlie like that." She led him to her sitting room and laid out the plaid on the sofa. "If you put him down here, i'll stay with him until he wakes up. I have enough work to do that i can easily take care of here."

Charles carefully lowered the child and wrapped the plaid around him, brushing the soft blonde hair away from his forehead. "I'll get you some tea." he whispered to Elsie, resisting the powerful urge to kiss her cheek.

"That would be most welcome."

When he left the room he thought why Elsie had looked as if she was sorry about something, but he had urgent matters to see to: tea for Elsie and a bell from the morning room - probably Lady Edith asking for some refreshments. He had noticed she hardly had eaten anything during luncheon. He decided to go up first, but put the kettle on so the water would be boiled when he returned.

He came back, feeling a little put out, learning that her ladyship had accidentally brushed against the bell when she rearranged a vase on the mantle, but it did mean Elsie wouldn't have to wait long for her tea. He prepared a tray, like he would for upstairs, placing a cloth on it, setting a cup and saucer so it was ready to be used and a small plate with some of the biscuits from the tin both he and Charlie had been enjoying their snacks from.

He took the tray and made his way to Elsie's sitting room, opening the door carefully. Elsie was sitting at her desk, but she wasn't working. Her eyes were transfixed on Charlie. She seemed miles away, deep in thought and by the look of things, not the most cheerful kind.

He stepped over the threshold and she lifted her head, tearing her eyes away from Charlie, who stirred a little. They both held their breaths, but nothing happened.

"I am rather jealous of Charlie's midday naps..." Charles said.

"I don't think you'd fit on my sofa." Elsie quipped and he stifled a chuckle. He put down the tray on her desk and found she had been working, there were notes scribbled in the margins of letters and invoices. He poured Elsie a cup and handed it to her, like he would Lady Grantham. He didn't often get the chance to care for Elsie, even if it was for a little bit.

She took the saucer and stirred her tea thoughtfully. "He trusts you." she quietly said.

"Does he?" Charles was a bit confused.

"Yes. He normally doesn't fall asleep in just anyone's arms. But then again, you're his favourite anyway." Elsie sipped her tea.

Together they stared at Charlie, who tossed so he almost slid off the sofa and Charles reached out for the boy and caught him in a reflex. Elsie had jumped up from her chair and ran over to help. The boy was still sleeping.

"How does he do that? When i fall out of my bed, i am instantly awake."

"But you are not being caught by two strong arms." Elsie gently pulled the boy back on the sofa and covered him again. "If Charlie is to spend more time here, we will need a cot or something."

"Why would he spend more time here?" Charles asked, taking a step back so Elsie could pass in front of him to get something from the chest in the corner. Her bottom almost touched him and he held his breath. She returned with a soft flannel and pressed it between Charlie's hands. The child took it in his sleep and hugged it tight.

"Her ladyship is thinking of having Ethel resume duties here at Downton." she stuck up her hand to silence Charles. "I know what you are going to say and i have said those things to her ladyship, but perhaps we ought to think of Charlie more than of Ethel. Like you said: he deserves a chance in life."

They stood side by side, their heads bent, looking at Charlie.

"You are right. We'll have to see he will grab his chances. Who knows. Maybe we could train him to be a bootboy." He could feel her laugh and his heart leapt, like it always did when she laughed.

"I was hoping he would go to school and maybe even on after that."

He imagined her hand brushed his and he checked it. Her hand was very close. If she had brushed against him, it must have been accidental.

"You have great plans for him."

"Don't we all want more for our children?" she asked.

"My mother did. And i disappointed her." Charles didn't know why Elsie always made him say things he rather kept to himself.

"If she could see you know i am sure she would have been very proud. Butler of a grand house like Downton."

"My mother would have preferred to see me with six or seven of these," he pointed at Charlie, "a pretty girl and a steady job."

A heavy silence hung in the room.

For the first time in many years he could saw it again: the cottage, the dark haired children, the smiles when he would step through the door, tired from work, being kissed by a wife who loved him.

"We chose a different path." Elsie's voice sounded constrained.

Charles took a step closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder. He did not know how he dared, how he knew it was the right thing to do. She laid her head against his shoulder. He was taller than she was and she fit remarkably well as she leaned in.

"You asked me, a few years ago, if i would have liked to have gone another way. I have thought about that ever since. You said you sometimes thought about it too."

He felt her nod against him. He wanted to plant a kiss in her hair but stopped himself. He wished he could breathe as relaxed as little Charlie, who was still deep asleep, oblivious to what was going on in the room.

"Things are changing fast here." he ran a hand through his hair. "With Lady Sybil and Lady Mary gone..."

"And Lady Edith won't be here much longer either..." Elsie added.

"Do you think..." he started and Elsie answered, her mind always one step ahead of anyone else's.

"Yes."

"Yes?" He let go of her shoulder and spun around to face to her.

"Yes. I think perhaps..." Elsie bit her bottom lip.

"We could make a go of it?" His hands cupped her face.

"Yes." Elsie's laid her arms around his neck and pulled herself up.

Their lips found each other, first they merely brushed, but soon they were kissing, hungrily, making up for lost time, pulling each other nearer, their breaths ragged and shallow. She tasted of sweet tea and she smelled of lemon and lavender.

He had her in arms, finally, after all these years and she felt better than he could ever have imagined. He did not want their kiss to end, he did not want her to let go of him, but they were in her parlour. Anyone could find them there and Charlie was asleep on the settee.

Elsie let go of him first and she smiled at him, a happy, tender smile.

"I have been waiting to that for thirty years..."

"I have wanted to kiss you since you arrived here at Downton." he replied.

"I know." She took his hand and squeezed it. Her hand was warm and dry. Her skin was so soft. She watched Charlie and ran the fingers of her free hand over the child's hair and cheek.

"Thank you, little Charlie..." she whispered to him. "Mr Carson would never had found the courage if you hadn't fallen asleep in his arms."

"Cheeky..." Charles mumbled, but he couldn't help laughing a little. She was right, as always.

He found her in his arms again and her lips by his ear:

"I can't think of a better place to fall asleep than in your arms..."

Her warm breath in his neck made him shiver.

"Maybe, one day soon, you will." he promised

"When Charlie isn't here..." and he kissed her again, passionately, until Charlie woke up, half an hour later.

A/N: I feel so much better after writing this, it really helped me through a rough morning. I hope you enjoyed it too: if so, let me know, if not, let me know too!