Their restraint kills me, ugh.

Another way to fly

It wasn't love at first sight.

He remembers the day he met her because it is not everyday when there is a new housekeeper at Downton. He doesn't remember if it was spring or summer (it might have even been the autumn). He doesn't remember what she wore, if he said hello or if he simply nodded his head in acknowledgement. It doesn't matter; it's logistics. What matters is that she is in his life now. Does it really matter how it happened?

He also doesn't remember the process of falling in love. It seems like something he would have noticed, something he should have noticed. The thing about falling is that it requires losing balance and hitting the ground. And Carson the Butler never loses his balance.

But there was that one time where he was in a hurry and he hadn't noticed his shoe laces were untied. He was rushing to make it back to the dining room when he tripped, fell up the stairs, and promptly landed on his face.

Falling in love with Alice had been a similar act. He hadn't seen it coming until he was tangled up and falling in. It ended with him landing in a pile of humiliation, hoping that nobody else had been witness to his shame.

Mrs Hughes had seen him (literally) and he thanked her she offered a hand and dusted him off. When she was sure that there was nothing hurt but his pride, she laughed. She laughed and she laughed and she laughed even more as he got more and more red faced and uptight.

No, loving her wasn't sudden. Had it been sudden, he would be able to pinpoint the exact moment. It happened gradually over shared cups of tea and glasses of sherry. Over witty lines and hidden smiles, quiet worries and silent tears, the joy of life and the tragedy of untimely deaths.

How long had he loved Elsie Hughes? Does it even matter how long? Not really, he muses, it only matters that he does. Now all he has to do is-

She pokes her head into his office. He's sitting with a pile of paper on his desk, but he's not reading them.

"Mr Carson?" she knocks gently on his open office door.

"Yes Mrs Hughes?"

"I've just come to say good night," she remains at the door and surveys the man at his desk. "You look like you've been thinking too much."

He raises an eyebrow in amusement. "You could say that."

She closes the door behind her and takes a step in. "Would you like to talk about it?" She wrings her hands in front of her and watches him expectantly.

Carson sighs and leans back in his chair. "I really don't know where to start."

Mrs Hughes nods in understanding. "Well, you know where to find me when do." She starts to turn.

"Good night, Mrs Hughes," he tells her. She's halfway out the door when he calls after her. "Wait."

She frowns and turns around slowly and finds him sitting up straighter in his chair. She waits, knowing that he'll continue when he's ready.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?"

She bites her lip and cocks her head to the side "No, I don't believe so."

Carson nods his head. "Well I do." It's almost a formality.

Mrs Hughes smiles through her chewed lip. "Why thank you, Mr Carson," she pauses. She's almost afraid to say it. Almost. "I love you too."

In another life, they might have fallen into a passionate embrace. They might have lost all sense of propriety because damn propriety. But right in this very moment, this is enough. So he looks back down at the ledger he should have been reviewing and smiles.

Thoughts?