Author's Note: I'm still here. It has been far too long and my deepest thanks to those who continue to check up on me and read and review my work. Writing my novel has proven quite challenging so returning to these stories has been a welcome respite and motivational tool. My hope is to update several of my stories with one-shots of what the characters are up to, as well as continue two ongoing stories that are both long overdue to be completed.

In this Celebrity modern AU, following the events of Golden Ashes, Mary and Matthew are happily married working actors. We pick up their story after the release of their film, Damocles, and get a glimpse of their lives. There should be sufficient context within the story that reading the rest of the Celebrity series is not required, but still certainly recommended.

In Development

Condé Nast Entertainment Studios, One World Trade Center, Manhattan, New York, USA, April 2020

"Matthew."

Matthew Crawley turned around and nodded to a petite brunette woman in a black blouse and grey skirt walking over to him. She had a tablet computer tucked under one arm and her mobile phone in her other hand. Upon reaching him, Ivy Stuart smiled politely and waved towards the door off to the side of the room.

"You can go on in. They're going to seat you first and test the lighting," she informed him.

"Thanks," he replied. He checked over his image once more in the full-length mirror before following her through the door and into the studio beyond. The small space was dominated by a large white backdrop with a pair of chairs set before it. The crew were adjusting lights and cameras as well as the microphones suspended above the set.

"You're on the right," Ivy pointed. "I'm going to fetch Mary."

"All right," he replied, going over to take his seat. His eyes wandered over the set, observing the angles to the cameras and imagining how the interview could be framed. In the last few years, his career had taken on a whirlwind pace and opened his eyes to facets of the entertainment business he never would have contemplated when he was but a struggling actor. His unexpected streak of successful award-winning roles had led to him trying his hand at writing and directing. Learning the creative process from both sides of the camera had changed his mindset to the point that now, instead of being the nervous actor hoping to merely survive an interview, he found himself thinking instinctively as both a director and actor whenever he was on any set. Despite this being a marketing interview more than anything, promotion for his latest project, he couldn't help but imagine how he would run the shoot if he was in charge.

"Lose this white backdrop for starters," he muttered.

Matthew's latest film, Damocles, had debuted in London last week to sizeable crowds and critical acclaim. The North American premiere was a week away, squeezing in right before the huge summer blockbusters bowing later in the month. The response was a pleasant surprise, it being an impossible task to gauge how well any movie would be received that didn't feature superheroes or animated characters dancing about. His script and past successes had attracted none other than Denzel Washington to sign on to co-star, which helped the buzz and profile, though if the movie tanked, it would be Matthew who took the fall. He was almost clear of that danger now.

The initial takings from Europe had him close to recouping the film's modest budget and paying off all the investors. That left the remaining profits to be divided between the studio, Sony Classics, and him. As the writer, producer, director and male lead of the film, he had taken a significant risk, banking on his own project rather than just act in a more established movie. When the early reviews were positive, he was relieved. When the initial box office numbers came in, he was cautiously optimistic. Now, on the verge of the biggest hit of his career and cementing his status as a hot emerging star, he just wanted to get to the end of May intact. He was well accustomed to the frenzy of promoting a film, but with so much riding on this particular movie, he could barely relax for even a moment. Once this round of publicity was done and the movie was finally out in all markets, he could sit back and await the results.

"Breathe. You look like you're about to explode."

He blinked and surfaced from his inner thoughts as a tall woman with dark brown hair styled in waves down past her shoulders took a seat next to him. She was wearing a crisp cream coloured blouse with an open neck that showed a hint of her pale skin and a short navy skirt that would likely not make it into the camera shot but framed her long legs enticingly. She accepted a bottle of water from Ivy and took a sip, the impressive diamond ring and wedding band on her finger sparkling in the overhead lights.

"I'm fine," he muttered, leaning towards her and lowering his voice while the crew flittered around them.

"Are you?" she questioned, handing the bottle back to her personal assistant and arching her eyebrow at him.

"I am now," he smirked, his blue eyes looking at her knowingly.

She smiled and held his gaze. "Behave. This is our last one for the day."

"Good. I'm quite over it all," he replied. "I plan on spending the rest of the evening in the hotel."

"What about dinner?" she asked.

"I intend to feast," he nodded.

She averted her eyes, pretending to adjust her skirt. "Hungry, are you?"

"Ravenous," he said, his voice taking on that deep tenor that she recognized easily.

She flashed her teeth briefly before straightening her posture and remaining still as the crew finished up with their tests.

"All right, Matthew, Mary, whenever you're ready," the director announced. "We'll run it first with camera one."

They looked at each other one last time, sharing a brief nod before turning to look at the principal camera.

"Action!"

"Hello, I'm Lady Mary Crawley," Mary declared.

"And I'm Matthew Crawley," Matthew added.

"And we are here to do the WIRED Autocomplete Interview," she smiled brilliantly.

"We are, indeed."

Matthew reached down and picked up a large white placard from beside his seat and placed it across his lap, ensuring the text was centred properly for the camera. Several lines were printed in large letters with strips of tape covering parts of each sentence. The exercise for this interview was for he and Mary to review the most commonly searched questions about each of them taken from the internet. The questions were partially covered on the placard so that they could be dramatically unveiled and discussed as they went along. He found the idea a bit strange, but there was no denying the popularity of the series, particularly in North America. When they were offered the chance, Mary immediately agreed.

Reaching down, he pulled off the strip from the first line and read the question aloud.

"All right, Is Mary Crawley married?"

She kept her eyes on the placard and read the question quickly before turning to look at the camera to give her answer.

"I am. I'm married to a rather gorgeous and talented, infuriating man," she stated, arching her eyebrow as she moved her hand to subtly show off her rings.

"He sounds awful, really," he noted wryly.

"He sometimes can be, for certain," she agreed, looking at him pointedly as the cameras captured every moment.

"Such as?" he probed, keeping his eyes on hers.

"Such as the fact that he has the same last name as me, so even though I never changed my name after we married, and I never would do so since I don't believe that a wife should be obliged to take her husband's name, people assume that I took his name when, in fact, it was my name all along," she explained.

"An unforgivable sin, that. How dare he have the same last name as you?" he shook his head.

"That is just one example of how infuriating my husband is, yes," she shrugged, looking back at the camera.

"Well, he should be ashamed of himself. Next, Is Mary Crawley English?" he asked, uncovering the next line.

"I am. I was born in Downton Village in North Yorkshire, England, which makes me very much English. The accent might also give it away just a tad," she answered smugly.

"And I was born in Manchester, also in England," he chimed in.

"We aren't talking about you at the moment, however, so you'll need to wait your turn," she scoffed.

"Apologies, that's right," he cringed and shook his head for effect.

"He's so very impatient, this one," she sighed, looking at the camera.

"Is Mary Crawley a real Lady?" he read aloud.

They both frowned at each other.

"Well, that's quite a question, isn't it? Is she a real lady? If not, what is she, then? A fake lady? Not a lady at all? The possibilities…" she mused.

"I'm choosing to remain silent on this one out of fear for my own safety," he told the camera.

"I am a real Lady, yes. My father, Robert Crawley, is the Earl of Grantham, which means that my official title is Lady Mary Crawley," she nodded, gesturing with her hands to explain her point.

"It isn't just a compliment when people call you a Lady. It's your courtesy title," he confirmed.

"No, it's not just a compliment. My actual title is Lady Mary and not Mrs Crawley, by contrast," she said, turning to him again.

"No, wouldn't want anyone to call you that, would we?" he asked, appearing entirely serious.

"For the love of God, no. Calling me a lady is also a compliment as I am also a lady in style and comportment. So, a lady with a capital L and also a lady with a lower-case L," she spoke to the camera.

"You are easily the most ladylike of women that I know, yes," he declared, reaching to uncover the next question.

"I'm going to accept that with some suspicion and move along," she noted, looking at the next line on the placard.

"Is Mary Crawley in a Liberty Mutual commercial?"

"Mmm, no, I am not, much to my great disappointment. Liberty Mutual, I am terribly sorry that we have not made a commercial together," she stated.

"What was the last commercial that you were in?"

"I did a very wonderful commercial for Stand Up To Cancer back in the UK where a number of us were running through the streets of London quite frantically. It was very well done," she nodded.

"It was very well done and very well received. You do quite a bit of work for them," he noted.

"I do. It's an outstanding charity and a great cause. My husband is heavily involved with them as well, actually," she added.

"He is, yes, but let's not talk about him."

"No, let's not. Is that it, then?" she questioned.

"That's it for this card," he nodded before tossing the card away.

"All right, now my turn. Let's see. Can Matthew Crawley play the banjo? A very probing question, that," she smiled, unveiling the first question on her placard and looking at him expectantly.

"I cannot play the banjo. I played the banjo for a scene in a movie called The Disciple, but that was just the one scene and I just followed the chords I was told to play. I cannot actually play the banjo independently on my own, no," he replied.

"How sad. All right, Can Matthew Crawley sing? Such musical questions for you."

"I like to think that I can sing, yes. My wife seems to disagree," he shrugged, looking over at her.

"No, you can sing, it's just that you can't sing as well as she can," she explained, arching her eyebrow at him,

"Ah, this is probably true. She is a divine singer. Voice of an angel," he said, looking at the next covered question.

"Mmm. Can Matthew Crawley grow a beard? Goodness!" she chuckled lightly.

"I can grow a beard yes, and I have grown a beard for several film roles, which is why I currently have a slight beard now. However, I normally do not keep a beard in my regular life," he responded.

"You do look quite roguish with a beard, but it doesn't feel particularly nice," she said crisply.

"No, apparently it doesn't."

"Can Matthew Crawley direct? I think this means are you capable of directing, not whether you can do it well or not," she noted.

"Well, in that case, the answer is yes. I was about to say no if we were speaking about actual aptitude rather than ability," he distinguished.

"He is a fantastic director as proven by his numerous award nominations and glowing testimonials from the cast and crew that have worked under him. It's actually a bit annoying how good of a director he is, honestly. He's almost too good," she sighed.

"So kind of you."

"Isn't it, though? All right, and now I get to toss this," she said, waving the placard.

"Go on and throw it. That was an impressive distance," he commented as they watched the placard spin out of the camera shot.

"Thank you."

"Card number two. Did Mary Crawley win an Emmy?" he asked.

"I did, yes. I won Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series for Paladin and it was a wonderful moment in my career," she smiled and nodded.

"Did Mary Crawley do her own stunts in Paladin? Speaking of…" he looked at her expectantly.

"I did most of them, yes. I did all the sword fighting, shot all the guns, all the aerial shots were really me in the harness flying about and such, riding the horses, that was me. The only stunts I did not do was anything on the motorcycles because I am not a fan of motorcycles and anything involving fire because it's fire. I worked with two lovely stuntwomen – Gwen and Maddie – they are both absolutely incredible and I've actually worked with them since Paladin also," she answered.

"You have, yes. Does Mary Crawley have sisters?" he continued.

"I do. Edith and Sybil are my two younger sisters and they are lovely, and I adore them both, Sybil a bit more, but still," she explained.

"Apologies, Edith," he shrugged to the camera.

"Who is Mary Crawley dating now? Well, now we're on to the good stuff, as they say," he commented, nodding to the camera then waiting for her answer.

"I'm not actually dating anyone at the moment because I'm married. My husband does ask me out on dates from time to time, and I sometimes say yes, but usually I tell him to sod off and let me sleep," she said lightly.

"So technically, you would be dating your husband, then, wouldn't you?" he questioned.

"Occasionally, yes, when I am feeling generous," she confirmed.

"So the answer to the question that apparently is one of the internet's most common searches would be?" he smirked.

"I am dating Matthew Crawley, my husband, but only from time to time. Most of the time, I'm just married to him, rather," she stated.

"A very critical distinction, yes."

The interview wrapped up after a few more placards and barbs between the couple, mainly from Mary. Ivy escorted them down to the parking garage where a car was waiting to drive them back to their hotel. Emerging into the dusky sky of early evening New York, Mary's hand wandered over to grasp her husband's, drawing him to her lap as she looked out the tinted window.

"They liked it a lot," Ivy noted. "The chemistry was excellent."

"Yes, nothing resonates more than a wife putting her husband in his place on camera," he mumbled, smiling over at Mary.

"Quite right," she grinned. "I was actually surprised by the questions. I should have thought that some of the more commonly searched terms would be 'Mary Crawley Nudes' or 'Is Mary Crawley still dating Henry Talbot'?"

"I've often looked for your nudes online so I'm quite shocked that wasn't a top search, either," he said easily.

Ivy smirked as she kept busy with her phone.

"Darling, surely you must know by now that my nudes aren't floating around the internet. To get them, one must pay," she teased.

He rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand.

She looked over at him and smiled before leaning closer so her assistant could continue to pretend she couldn't hear them.

"I've only ever sent nudes to you," she whispered.

"Likewise," he retorted, smiling as he drew a slight blush from her. "Though it seems to me I have not had the honour of receiving one for some time."

"Well, perhaps we can look into correcting that tonight," she teased.

They settled into a comfortable silence for the remaining trip to the hotel.

Home of Alex and Anna Lewis, Rosedale, Toronto, Canada, July 2020

Alexander Lewis swung the Ferrari around the slight bend and swept up into his driveway. A quick press of a button and one of the garage doors opened allowing him to slide the sportscar into its berth. Removing his sunglasses and placing them in the cupholder, he grabbed his messenger bag and got out of the car. The chirp of the lock accompanied the whirl of the garage door closing as he went into the house.

"Daddy's home," he called, placing his keys on the wall rack and walking through the mudroom and into the kitchen.

"Hey, Daddy," Anna replied, quirking her eyebrows playfully as he came over to her.

"Hello," he said, kissing her softly before leaving his bag on the kitchen bar and grabbing a Coke from the fridge. "How are the twins?"

"Still playing with all their birthday presents, the ones they got to unwrap anyway," she replied, smiling as he came up behind her and pulled her into his hold. "They should be napping soon, hopefully."

A year after their twins were born, Anna still felt a warm happiness at any mention of them, even if they could be absolute terrors at times. She and Alex had tried to have children for a while and the strain of it, particularly a miscarriage, had threatened their marriage. Now with two healthy babies and their bond stronger than ever, she had a life of domestic bliss that she only imagined growing up with just her mum in England.

"So you're saying you're free for the afternoon, then, Mrs Lewis?" he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"Nanny is upstairs, may I remind you, Mr Lewis," she said, glancing back at him. "And your children could be clamouring for you at any moment."

"Do we not have a nanny to keep our children busy?" he asked. "Besides, they're supposed to be napping."

"Yes, they are, and our bedroom is down the hall from theirs if you recall," she shot back, smiling at his obvious growing annoyance.

"How many bedrooms do we have in this house? Don't we have one in the basement?" he countered.

"There are two in the basement," she replied, pressing herself back against him playfully.

"Even better," he declared, lifting her chin and leaning down to kiss her again.

"Aren't you going to at least tell me about your day before you demand that I service you?" she joked.

He stepped back and sipped his Coke, going over to look at the mail sitting on a nearby pile. "I was planning on doing my fair share of servicing, actually. Besides, I prefer to call it 'doing your wifely duties'"

"You prefer to call it all sort of things," she retorted.

He laughed knowingly. "Actually, I do have news. Damocles is projected to clear $200 million worldwide this weekend. The estimates from Japan and China look quite good."

She grinned. "That's wonderful. Mary will be so pleased."

"More than Matthew will be, I expect," he shrugged. "I spoke to him on the way home and he was barely happy about it. He's the only man I know who could be indifferent to being told he's making tens of millions in profit off of one film."

"He's not indifferent," she corrected him, taking a sip of water. "It's just not a priority for him or for her. Once his career took off a little so that things were more stable, he was happy enough with that. They're both more about doing good work than making loads of money."

"He is quite obsessed about his craft rather than making money," he nodded. "Anyway, his approach has paid off. The studios love him even more now. I've been getting calls all week from clients who want to get in on backing whatever his next project may be."

"A far cry from just last year when you barely could scrape together a budget for him," she laughed. "You're quite smug about how it's all played out now. You got him the financing and it's been a huge success."

"It doesn't hurt my reputation, certainly. I could get him upwards of $60 million now easily. Not bad at all for an entertainment lawyer from Canada," he nodded. "Any idea what Mary has planned for her next move?"

"No, she's just enjoying the summer in London," she answered. "Lady Rosamund sent over a few scripts and they're all projects filming over here."

"That's positive. You might be able to stay close to home, then," he noted. "How did Ivy take the news that you're coming back from mat leave to work?"

"She already knew months ago," she shrugged. "I think she's moved on to work for a media company in New York. She prefers the States to England. In the end, she wasn't so terrible, but I think Mary will be glad to have me back."

"Of course, she will be," he smiled. "You've run her life for most of her career. Ivy was never going to be more than a fill-in personal assistant."

"I think she had hopes that she might impress Mary enough to stay on. Lots of actresses have more than one P.A. Anyway, I don't think Mary will do anything until the Fall. Do you think Matthew will jump into something straight away?" she asked.

"I doubt it," he shook his head. "They've both been working pretty solid for the last couple years. He'll want to take his time before he decides. He could do anything he wanted, really."

"Imagine that a man who wants to just take time off and enjoy being married," she teased, looking at him pointedly.

"Right, because I'm the one who works too much," he shot back, coming over and bringing her into his arms once again. "You're going to be leaving me here while you and Mary cavort around some film set."

"We don't cavort," she rolled her eyes but still smiled up at him. He was nearly a foot taller than her and when he wrapped her up like this she felt entirely adored. "We're on set twelve hours a day and during the rest of our time we hunt around for a half-decent restaurant."

"How glamorous," he smirked, kissing her forehead. "Doesn't change the fact that you'll be there and I won't."

"You would think you'd be used to it after so many years," she joked.

"I don't plan on ever getting used to my wife not being at home, no," he retorted.

"Mmm, maybe you'll get lucky and Mary will end up filming here, so I'll be home most nights," she mused.

"I hope I don't need to wait until the Fall to get lucky," he snorted.

She scoffed and slapped him on the arm. "Hilarious, babes, honestly."

"Love, I want you," he growled, kissing her neck and pulling her close. "The twins are occupied. Let's spend some time together, please."

She laughed and circled her arms around him. "You are so cute when you're desperate for it."

"Well?" he asked, kissing her softly.

"Yes, babes," she grinned. "Since you asked so nicely."

"Really?" he blinked.

She laughed. "Yes, really. Take me downstairs and fuck me. Is that enough of an invitation for you?"

He scooped her up and carried her towards the basement, her laughter quickly snuffed out by another heated kiss.

Home of Lady Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley, Cumberland Terrace, Regent's Park, London, England, August 2020

"Filming would begin in late September so it's tight," Mary sighed, arching her eyebrow as she scrolled over the email once again on her phone. "I'd have to read the entire novel, screenplay and prepare in only a couple weeks. I usually like more lead-time than that but it's a bit of a scramble trying to get it done so it can get on Apple TV Plus for winter season."

"A couple of weeks isn't so bad," Matthew replied easily. "Having a book for source material helps."

"It helps when one enjoys research, as you do," she scoffed. "I'm afraid that it won't be enough time for me to dig deeper into the character. If the book doesn't flesh her out as much, I'll be stuck trying to piece her all together on my own."

"I can help," he offered. "I've got some free time coming up."

"How generous," she laughed.

"Boston can be nice in September-October," he continued, running his hands up and down her bare legs resting on his lap. "There are some really great cycling roads in those small towns where you would be filming."

"Well, thank God for that," she said sarcastically, arching her eyebrow and glancing over at him. "The cycling is good so of course I should sign on for the project."

"Don't you want your husband to be comfortable while you're away on set?" he asked, taking hold of one leg and massaging her calf. "You're leaving me all alone for hours at a time, most of the day, really. The least I can do is find something to keep me occupied."

"Who says that you're invited?" she smirked, relaxing against the cushions of the sofa as her husband diligently attended to her. "You direct a few movies that make over $100 million and suddenly the entire world revolves around you, does it?"

"My last one made well over $200 million worldwide, actually," he replied, drawing a groan from her. "I'm merely trying to be a supportive husband," he said innocently, working his fingers down to her feet.

She smiled and closed her eyes, sighing contentedly from his ministrations. "Mmm, you are quite good at this. Perhaps I will bring you along."

"A mini-series with Apple backing it, a decent cast, based on an intriguing novel, and worldwide distribution once they roll out their streaming service beyond the States. If the screenplay strikes you, it sounds quite positive," he advised.

"Your encouragement wouldn't have anything to do with hoping that I'll be too busy to film the Paladin movie with Henry, would it?" she teased.

"Not at all," he replied. "Who's Henry again?"

She laughed and put her phone down on the glass coffee table. Paladin was the television show that Mary became famous in North America for over the past years. Her transition to films had been rocky, with her popularity much higher in France and across Europe due to her having to make movies there after receiving so little in America. Her own perseverance in doing good work across several French films and most recently starring with Matthew in Damocles had helped her get a foothold back in Hollywood. Now she was debating returning to Paladin for the film adaptation – a big-screen fantasy drama with an established worldwide fanbase and a character that was entirely hers. Becoming Empress Jade once more would also mean acting opposite Henry Talbot, an acclaimed English actor who was a detestable man. Henry had chased after Mary the entire time they filmed together and his drug scandal had led to the show's ultimate cancellation. Neither Mary nor Matthew were thrilled with being in his presence, let alone the idea of her working with him again, but the lure of a major Hollywood film that was sure to be a hit at the box office was impossible to turn down.

"Darling, if I do this mini-series for Apple, I'll still be able to start shooting Paladin in January," she noted. "We talked about this. I'll have to work with Henry, but outside of work, I'll have nothing to do with him, just as I haven't for years now."

His fingers lingered on her thigh, just below her boy shorts. Leaning towards her, she felt the warmth from his hands and his blue eyes washing over her.

"I know," he nodded. "I think this is a good project for you and as much as I can't stand Henry, if you want to film Paladin, I can understand why that makes sense. If I spent all my time worrying about what thirsty fool might be after my wife on everything you filmed, I would be a mess. Of course, I'll give you my opinion but it's your decision in the end and I'll support you in whatever you decide to do, darling."

She grinned and reached up to caress his face. "Thank you."

"Speaking of admirers, what about Monsieur Chaput?" he asked lightly. "I thought he had another film for you to get started on and you would be packing your bags for Paris."

She kissed him lightly before settling back down on the sofa. Paul Chaput was an acclaimed and eccentric director in France who Mary worked with on several films following her exile from Hollywood. He was from the old school of filmmaking where a director and his ingénue were bound together throughout their careers. Mary was a veteran actress but she was also his latest star and her movies under him had been modestly successful. Her latest had finally made an impression in North America, which, when paired with the popularity of Damocles now had her career somewhat back on track.

"I've spoken to him a few times, but his script still isn't ready. He made so many changes that the first one he sent me isn't anywhere close to what it is now," she answered. "At this rate, he'll have to wait. Between this mini-series and Paladin, I'll be booked into the new year."

"How unfortunate," he smirked. He took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers, his other hand sliding up her thigh. She smiled, holding his gaze as his hand slipped past her boy shorts and massaged her bottom.

"Darling, we are supposed to be discussing serious business," she noted, arching her eyebrow at him.

"You have my complete undivided attention, I assure you," he said just before leaning down and kissing her.

"Mmm, it seems that you are attending to other matters at the moment," she teased.

He squeezed her bottom with one hand while the other slipped beneath her shirt. "I hear every word you say, my darling."

"Very well, I'll have Aunt Rosamund confirm that I'm accepting the part," she said, sighing as heat trailed along her body everywhere his fingers touched.

"I'll find a house for us to rent while you're filming," he replied, his lips moving from her mouth to her neck.

"That would be helpful, yes," she nodded, her eyes closing as he tugged her boy shorts down her legs.

"Any way that I can be of service, Milady," he growled, pulling her shirt up and swiping his tongue across her breast.

"Mmm, darling, do you know what I want so very badly right now?" she smirked, looking down at him with a dark gaze before she ran her fingers through his blond hair.

"Name it," he grinned.

"I'm famished. I really would love to go to that lovely Thai place we found," she said, arching her eyebrow at him.

He groaned and dropped his head to her stomach.

"Shall we?" she asked, playing with his fingers.

"Yes, of course," he muttered, eventually rising and helping her to her feet.

"Patience, darling," she said, kissing him quickly before heading to the foyer.

"Patience, yes," he mumbled, taking a deep breath before following behind her.

Pho Viet's II Restaurant, Newton, Massachusetts, USA, September 2020

"It's an interesting question," Mary mused, deftly grabbing a spring roll with her chopsticks and dipping it in the fragrant fish sauce. "What do you do when someone you love has done something so very terrible? Do you protect them at all costs, or do you have them face judgement?"

"When someone you love has allegedly done something so very terrible," Anna corrected her, taking a sip of her jasmine tea.

"Yes, allegedly, right," Mary rolled her eyes before popping the spring roll in her mouth. She savoured the taste before swallowing and taking a sip of water. "But there's the rub – my character doesn't know if her son has done it or if he hasn't."

"She has her suspicions, though," Anna added.

"Indeed," Mary nodded. "That's been the challenge, really – playing her as adamant one moment and wary the next, all while remembering that she's a mother throughout."

"I think maternal instincts are quite powerful in that scenario, keeping in mind that it's so shocking that no one quite knows how they would behave," Anna nodded. "You're playing it quite realistically, I would say."

"I hope so. Morten seems pleased so far. I just don't want to be caught playing the weeping mother who loses it every scene. I told them to change that one at the police station so it's not just Chris doing all the talking while I stand in the corner wiping my eyes," Mary nodded, gathering noodles from the soup into her large spoon.

"Oh, that's brilliant. That scene was horrible when I first read it," Anna smiled.

"It was typical, rather," Mary shrugged. "Literally hiding behind a man. Admittedly, the story is more about the father and son, but that was a bit lazy, I thought. In the book, you can see so much more of her internal struggle and the conflict between her and her husband. I think it will be fleshed out more in the second four episodes, but it appears I'll need to keep everyone honest."

"It's nice that you have the freedom to give input like that," Anna said, having another taste of her grilled pork on rice dish. "It hasn't always been that way."

"No, it certainly has not," Mary laughed, taking a spoonful of soup and wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Morten and Chris are both more collaborative by nature, which helps. I also like to think that I've earned more of a voice now after Damocles."

"You have far more of a say than you did in France," Anna commented. "Paul isn't exactly a collaborative director."

"He is, in that he'll listen to me before telling me what to do," Mary smiled wryly. "He's more old school – he expects his actors to follow his orders."

"Particularly his leading lady," Anna added.

"Even he became more comfortable by the third film we did together. It's not exactly collaborative, no, but I think I've made an impression on him," Mary explained.

"You have. You're his favourite," Anna teased.

"We'll see. It may be a while until I work with him again, so he might move on to some other pretty young thing," Mary smiled before going back to her soup.

"Have you ever considered writing your own story?" Anna asked. "Have more control over everything?"

"Now you're sounding like Matthew," Mary scoffed, shaking her head. "I don't know. Honestly, I'm not eager to take on all of that responsibility. I like being an actor and collaborating on my character and scenes but doing the entire production start to finish doesn't particularly interest me."

"He's brought it up again?" Anna continued.

"He knows better than to mention it overly much, but, yes," Mary nodded. "After Damocles did so well, he almost expects us to work together on every project. He doesn't mind that I'm shooting this mini-series and Paladin after that, but when he comes up with his next idea, he'll expect me to be in it."

"Not entirely a bad thing for your husband to want to work with you, is it?" Anna smiled.

"You know that's not what I mean," Mary frowned. "It's wonderful working with him and not because he's my husband but because he's very talented and we understand each other. Still, I don't want to be defined as one half of a husband-and-wife team. I've always wanted to stand on my own and he knows that better than anyone."

"It hasn't dissuaded him," Anna noted.

"He can be quite annoying that way, yes," Mary agreed. "You know how meticulous he is. I expect he already has next year mapped out for us – working on a script so that once I'm done with Paladin we can do another film together."

"Planning out well in advance, reminds me of someone I know," Anna grinned.

"Haha," Mary deadpanned. "I'll certainly consider whatever he comes up with. I would be foolish not to, given his recent string of successes. Still, I'm not going to close off anything else, either. It's a relief to have options again and I intend to take advantage."

Anna smiled and shook her head before going back to eating her meal.

"What?" Mary asked. "What is it?"

"Do you ever think you'll be able to just enjoy your life?" Anna asked.

Mary blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I've known you since we were children. You're always so driven, so intent on fighting, on proving yourself. When do you think you'll consider that you've won?" Anna explained.

Mary arched her eyebrow and looked down at her food. "I don't know what you mean."

"I don't know, I'm not you, but I've seen everything you've done to overcome so many struggles in your career and things are good now, probably better than they've ever been. I just wonder if you see all that you've done and appreciate it or if you're still thinking you have something left to prove," Anna remarked. "I'm probably doing a shit job of saying what I mean."

"No, I think that I understand," Mary nodded. She paused to take a sip of tea. "I suppose I'm still afraid that it could all vanish like it did before. The entire time I was in France I learned quite harshly that I'm very much at the mercy of those in power and that those in power are mostly men, also."

Anna nodded.

"It's so easy to go from being a studio's favourite actress to being out of work," Mary continued. "I never want to go back to that place again – when no one would even let me audition or consider me for anything significant. Besides, I don't think I'm at the height of my powers yet, either. There are many roles that I'm not considered for straight away and I want to change that. So, I am very much still fighting."

"But it's different now," Anna noted. "You have Matthew. I know you hate having to rely on others, but he's your husband. As much as you don't like being thought of as a team, you are a team."

"I know," Mary nodded.

"I'm the last person to have an opinion on anyone's marriage, obviously," Anna sighed. "I'm not saying that you should just allow Matthew to run your career because he would never want to do that. It's just that I remember how I made Alex feel when I acted so independently of him – when I was more coming in and out of his life as it suited me than actually being his wife. You always think that they'll understand and that everything's fine, but it's not. You have to work at marriage. You don't need to choose between your husband and your career, but I just think you seem to go out of your way to let him know that you don't need him, that you don't need anyone…"

"And you don't think that's wise," Mary finished.

"No, no I don't," Anna confirmed. "Before when you were on your own and trying to make your name, of course, it was a constant battle. That's not your life now. Matthew loves you and he's brilliant at what he does. Maybe you don't need to fight as hard to be on every studio's preferred list anymore."

"He's hardly perfect," Mary sighed. "This incredible run of success he's on could all end at any moment. It was only a few years ago that he was almost set to quit acting altogether."

"That's true, but now he has you," Anna replied.

"And that's enough for him, you think," Mary arched her eyebrow.

"He's here following you around just like he was in Paris and London and Toronto. To him, it's normal to go where your career takes you. I know how that is. Alex will say the odd joke but he's never complained when I've been away from him for months at a time. He doesn't question it so much as he just makes it work."

"But?" Mary prompted her.

"But with everything, we went through and now with the twins, I know he'll expect me to be more present than I have been before, and he should expect that, really. I'll never be a stay-at-home mum, but I need to actually go home each night," Anna smiled.

"Instead of following me around to some film set in another country," Mary nodded.

"Well, this one's in the same time zone as Toronto, at least," Anna laughed. "It's easy enough to fly here, also. Just don't be so preoccupied with what all these studio executives and producers and directors think of you. You've got an award-winning actor and director at home who adores you already."

"Has he mentioned anything to Alex?" Mary asked. "About feeling unappreciated?"

"No," Anna shook her head. "Men don't talk about these sorts of things. I just don't want you to have to go through what I went through. Don't lose sight of what's truly important. You've got a good man and there aren't as many of those around as one might think."

"Mmm," Mary replied.

"Everything all right, you two?" the waitress asked, stopping in to check on them.

"Fine, thanks," Mary smiled.

"Lady Mary, if it's not too much trouble, could we have a photo to put on our Instagram?" the waitress continued sheepishly. "When you're done eating, obviously."

Mary grinned and straightened her posture. "Yes, of course. I always have time for fans."

West Suburban YMCA, Newton, Massachusetts, USA, September 2020

"Outlet!" Alex called waving his hand.

Matthew passed the basketball quickly to him and headed up the court. The squeak of shoes on the floor rang out while the players ran back. Easily moving past the man trying to guard him, Matthew slid below the three-point arc and watched.

Alex dribbled the ball between his legs and quickly accelerated. His defender shuffled his feet quickly to keep up, bodying up to him to try and slow his momentum. Alex changed direction and shifted back to his right, switching the ball behind his back.

Matthew stepped over and held himself rigid, bracing for impact.

Alex cut tightly around Matthew, causing his defender to be screened off and leaving him one-on-one facing Matthew's backpedalling opponent. Giving a quick shoulder shake to put his new defender off-balance, Alex took three quick dribbles to get himself closer to the basket, then two large strides before taking off.

Matthew turned and followed, though he knew his presence would not be needed.

Alex raised the basketball above his head and raised up to full extension. The defender jumped late, his arms flailing uselessly as Alex glided past. He shouted as he dunked the ball through the hoop firmly, drawing the attention of everyone in the gym, including those standing off to the side waiting for their chance to play.

"That's game!" Matthew grinned, clapping his hands.

"That's it for us," Alex said, congratulating the other men and women on both teams. "Nice run, everybody."

He slapped hands twice and bumped fists with Matthew on their way to the locker room.

"You put a bit extra into that one," Matthew joked.

"The guy's trash talk was weak," Alex shrugged. "Thought he could use a bit of a lesson. That was a nice screen."

"He was just pointing out that Kawhi doesn't play for the Raptors anymore so your jersey is obsolete," Matthew smiled. "It's been over a year, in fact."

"This jersey is a vintage piece," Alex retorted, pulling on the strap of his red singlet. "A championship-winning jersey never goes out of style."

Matthew laughed as they went through. Alex sat down on the bench between their lockers and took a long drink of water.

"What do you want for dinner?" Matthew asked, pulling his tank top off and running a towel through his hair. "I think the ladies will be a few hours yet."

"Yeah, Anna says to go on without them," Alex replied, checking his phone. "Maybe Italian?"

"I was going to say I want barbecue of some sort," Matthew shrugged.

"Yeah, I could do that," Alex nodded, putting his phone down and stretching his arms. "We should probably take it to go. I can't be out too long."

"The twins still sleeping all right?" Matthew asked.

"I don't know why, but they love it here," Alex nodded. "They've been going down without hardly any fuss for a week now. It's crazy."

"All that rarefied air floating over from Harvard or something," Matthew laughed.

"Yeah, that's it," Alex rolled his eyes. "Speaking of Harvard, what did you think of the place on your little spin over the other day?"

"It's impressive for sure, but I don't know if I'm up for writing anything that takes place on a university campus," Matthew replied. "What would I play? A professor? Seems a bit of a stretch. None of the outlines I'm working on involves a university setting."

"You could always find an existing project, you know. It's not required that you write, direct, produce and star in every film," Alex commented.

"I also do catering sometimes," Matthew nodded.

"I'm serious. These last few films, it's as if you need to do everything from start to finish. Remember when you were happy enough just being in the chorus of a musical?"

"I wouldn't say I was happy. It was more relieved to be working than actual happiness," Matthew corrected him.

"And now you're happy wearing all these different hats at the same time?" Alex questioned. "It's a lot of extra work that you don't need."

"Maybe, but it's the easiest way to make sure I don't get fired off a picture," Matthew waved his hand.

"You're not getting fired off of anything," Alex shook his head. "Look, you've been at this a long time and toiled for a while. It's different now. You've arrived. You don't need to audition anymore. You barely even need to pitch a studio on whatever film you want to direct. You've got plenty of actors lining up to be in whatever your next project is. This is when it's supposed to be fun. You've earned the right to pick and choose what you want to do, and you don't need to spread yourself so thin. Pick a job that you want to do and do it and also let others do theirs. You'll enjoy it far more, trust me."

"Yeah, maybe," Matthew nodded before heading off to the showers.

Cold Spring Park, Newton, Massachusetts, USA, October 2020

"We've got twenty minutes," Anna advised, passing Mary her phone and taking back the bottle of water. "Lady Rosamund said the script changes were acceptable."

"Of course, she did," Mary rolled her eyes as she stepped into her trailer and went over to the small desk. "She's not the one having to actually act the scenes out."

Anna smiled to herself as she put the water bottle down and took out her tablet. Mary took a seat, placed her headset in her ear and swiped her fingers across the laptop screen to bring up the script in question.

"Mary, are you there?" the voice came over the headset.

"I'm here, Ron. Good afternoon," she replied crisply.

"Good afternoon," he replied. "I've got Anne and Ira here with me, also."

"Good afternoon, all," she acknowledged. "I hope we can be brief. I've got another scene in about fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "Listen, we got your comments about the script changes and figured we should have a chat. We're up against a bit of a crunch with the running time for the movie so some of those scenes are going to be cut out and we decided to do it before filming and editing afterwards."

"I understand, however, removing two of the scenes that I noted will change how Jade is portrayed quite significantly," she replied. "You're cutting one of the crucial scenes where she explains her decision to attack the fleet."

"Mary, it's Ira," another man cut in. "The fight scenes are going to be bigger than anything we ever did on the tv show. The audience should be well aware of Jade's motivation without the additional dialogue."

"So, you think that a few big explosions will explain everything, do you?" she shot back. "It seems to have her take a turn that's entirely out-of-character compared to what she's done before would require a bit more than that, no?"

Anna pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing.

"Mary, it would be great if we could include all the scenes that we want, but to fit it all in the running time we're aiming for, extra dialogue has to be cut down. The audience knows these characters and understands the relationships between them. It's part of the appeal to dissect what Jade's motivations are and why she's choosing to do what she's doing. That helps build word-of-mouth and hopefully get people to go back and watch the movie again," he explained.

"Usually when something doesn't make sense, that's a negative, rather," Mary countered. "If you're actually so concerned about the running time, why don't you cut part of my three love scenes or take away one of Henry's speeches?"

"Uh, we considered all of those options," Ron answered. "In the end, we thought the narrative would suffer for it."

"Ah, yes, the narrative," she nodded. "Very crucial to the narrative that Henry and I have sex on a boardroom table."

"Mary…" Ira interjected.

"Ira, we all know what's going on here," she interrupted. "This movie is potentially going to be huge and I understand and accept that everything has to be on a larger scale. I didn't say anything when Henry wanted his speeches included and I didn't say anything when Tony wanted more screen time. Frankly, I don't care what they do so long as it doesn't affect me. This is different. I carried the show after Henry left and I'm not taking a supporting role to him just because he feels like coming back now. We talked about this. It wasn't just me that suffered, was it?"

"No, Mary, you're right," Anne chimed in. "As much as we may not like it, Henry being a part of the movie is a big deal. He's a huge a draw and the studio wants to keep him happy."

"The draw is that Henry and I will be on screen together again," Mary corrected her. "The show was built on both of our characters as a couple. The studio needs to understand that they need to keep both of us happy, not just him."

"I'm sure they understand that. They also understand that you're more reasonable than he is," Anne replied.

"I can be reasonable to a point, a point that we are very quickly approaching," Mary shot back.

"Leave it with us, Mary," Ron sighed. "We'll look at it again. We might be able to get you one scene back if we shave something else. I can't get you both scenes in, but I'll do my best."

"I'll wait to see the changes before I comment any further. I've got to go. Bye," she said curtly, rolling her eyes as she hung up the call and tossed her headset on the desk.

"Went well, did it?" Anna asked.

"I'm going to end up getting one scene back in, which is fine since both of them together were a bit redundant," Mary shrugged, rising from the desk and taking the bottle of water from her assistant. "They're still bending over backwards for Henry, though."

"Of course, they are," Anna nodded, following Mary out of the trailer. "Nothing's changed."

"Well, I'm getting paid the same as him, at least," Mary shook her head.

"Officially, anyway," Anna noted.

Mary smirked. "I don't want to know what else they may have given him as enticements, to be honest. Our upfronts are the same, our percentages are the same and our residuals are the same. That should keep the union happy."

"Until he opens his mouth and says something stupid," Anna said.

"Let's just hope the movie is a hit but not so successful that they want to do a sequel," Mary declared as they headed back to the set.

She was only half-joking.

Rented Home of Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley, Newton, Massachusetts, USA, October 2020

"God, this is so sad," Mary shook her head, sitting back in her chair and scrolling through the text on her screen. "Every story is more heartbreaking than the next."

Matthew lifted his head from his laptop computer and glanced over at her. "It's a tremendous accomplishment that they were willing to document their emotions – both the parents of the accused and the parents of the victims."

"Yes, quite," she agreed. "Even still, it hardly makes for enjoyable reading. There's a sense of hopelessness to all these accounts, that their lives have been changed forever. It's all so heavy, so much to digest. I just hope I can capture the correct tone for these last episodes."

"You'll be brilliant, I'm sure. After all, you've done your research," he smirked before turning back to his screen.

She arched her eyebrow and leaned towards him. "What is that supposed to mean, pray?"

"What is what supposed to mean?" he answered.

"Your sarcastic comment – you've done your research?" she repeated.

"Well, you don't particularly care for doing research, do you?" he smiled.

"Are you saying that I just show up on set and have a go, then?" she retorted.

"Obviously not," he laughed. "You work extremely hard, I know, but research is not your most preferred part of the job, is it?"

"And where has your thirst for knowledge taken you now? What opus are you currently crafting, then?" she questioned, glancing at his screen.

"I'm all over the place," he sighed, reaching out and rubbing her back. "I had an idea about a sort of modern version of Sovay."

"The woman who robs her lover to test his devotion?" she frowned.

"She pretends to rob him, yes," he nodded. "I changed the woman to a rich surgeon or doctor of some sort and the lover to be an artist. I didn't get very far after that."

"Hmm, I've never played a doctor before," she mused.

He looked at her warily. "Who says you would be up for the part?"

She blinked and looked at him pointedly. "Pardon?"

"I'm going over possible ideas. I haven't thought of who would be cast yet," he shook his head.

"Matthew Reginald Crawley," she said slowly, holding his gaze. "Are you trying to say that you aren't envisioning the two of us in your next project?"

"I'm neither envisioning it nor not envisioning it," he replied.

"Really?" she smirked. "Well, I suppose I will need to see the actual story before I decide if I want to be involved."

"Of course," he mumbled. "As if you would ever commit to one of my films sight unseen."

She rolled her eyes and watched him type for several moments before turning her chair to face him.

"Darling," she began.

"Hmm?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Stop," she said firmly.

He frowned for a moment before leaving his laptop alone to look at her.

She took his hands in hers and made sure his blue eyes stayed locked on hers.

"I do want to work with you again and I'm sorry if it seems as if I don't. I do understand how you feel even if you don't believe that I do. You see Paul and Henry and how it seems that I so quickly move to work with them and yet I put you through all of this…struggle…" she said patiently.

He nodded slightly and waited for her to continue.

"You probably think that I should have more faith in you, but darling, that's just it. I do believe in you. You're absolutely brilliant. I don't want you just to take on any old project simply so we can work together and more importantly, I don't want you to be so focused on finding something for us that you pass up something better," she explained.

"How do you even know that would happen?" he questioned, scoffing at her scenario.

She smirked. "I know because I know you. I'm sure that Joe has sent you outlines and scripts for movies written by perfectly competent people and that you most likely turn down whichever ones don't have a decent female lead character."

"If there isn't a decent female lead character, that would indicate the movie itself isn't worth doing," he objected.

"That's hardly true, but even still, not every role is going to work for me. Your career should be about your own choices, not as some support vehicle for mine," she implored him.

"Well, I…" he began.

"Don't say that you choose to work with me, that's not what I meant," she countered.

He grunted and looked away for a moment.

"Hey," she reached up and caressed his face, drawing him back to her. "I trust you. You know what I'm capable of as an actress and the films we have done together have been excellent. If you say you have something for us, I will seriously consider it."

He grinned and nodded.

"However," she cautioned him, drawing another grunt accompanied by an eye-roll. "I still maintain that our focus should be our own careers, which means we will be working independently of each other likely more often than not."

"Fine," he nodded slowly. "It's your decision. We all know how turning me down has worked out for you in the past."

"What was that?" she asked, glaring at him incredulously.

He grinned. "Must I repeat myself? I'm just noting that Rooney did quite well with your role in 10 Days is all."

"My role? God, you are so full of yourself!" she sneered, rising from her chair and advancing on him.

He laughed and leaned back as she climbed into his lap and slapped his chest. "Facts are facts, darling. Isn't that what you're always saying?"

"You insufferable man!" she snarled, though she did nothing to stop him from wrapping his arms around her. "You expect me to beg you for the privilege of working with you now, don't you?"

"For starters, yes," he smiled, finally drawing her down for a quick kiss.

"Don't count on it," she warned, kissing him back before sliding off of him and standing back up. "I have research to do."

He rolled his eyes as she took her chair again and went back to her tablet.

Corey Hill Outlook Park, Brookline, Massachusetts, USA, October 2020

The area around Boston is dotted with green spaces, oftentimes appearing seemingly out of nowhere. While there are plenty of vast fields and proper parks with majestic gates at their entrances and manicured lawns for people to stroll along or dogs to scamper over, sometimes a grassy oasis springs up out of a residential street.

Or at the top of a very steep hill, such as the one Matthew is forcing his bike up now.

He makes quite a sight, giving the older women walking up the pavement and the kids running and laughing someone to notice. His cycling kit is skin-tight and leaves his legs bare below the knees and his arms naked past his biceps. Despite the slight chill of this autumn day, the sun is out and he's sweating as he passes them all, his sunglasses shielding his eyes and his helmet making him essentially unrecognizable, pedalling steadily up this street that is more a ramp than a road.

He maintains his high cadence even as his calves begin to protest. Rising from the saddle, he leans forward, driving his legs and powering the bike higher and higher towards the park at the summit. While he'll be dealing with sore muscles tomorrow, it's this precise moment during his bike rides that he enjoys the most. Grunting and groaning his way over the final metres, his mind is wonderfully blank. He doesn't worry about his next film in this moment. He doesn't become annoyed or anxious over Mary's lack of enthusiasm over the idea of them working together again. He doesn't debate with himself over how he's going to play politics with the big Hollywood studios or what he needs to do to manage his image now that he's so popular. As his heart rate skips, he only focuses on breathing and keeping his high pedal rate so he doesn't fall over and slide back down the hill.

"Fuck," he growls, swaying slightly as he pushes harder on the pedals. He can see the top of the hill now, the horizon looming larger the closer he steers his bike to the top. It would have been far easier to stick to flat roads on this ride and whip around his usual one hundred miles before returning back to their rented house in Newton. This particular steep climb was talked about in different cycling chats online and with Mary filming well into this evening, he figured he would give it a go.

That idea sounded much more manageable back in the living room.

There is more relief than euphoria when he does reach the top, easing his bike onto a small path and pedalling slowly to avoid the intense leg cramps that are sure to come. He's thankful that he didn't drain his water bottles before he got here and eventually he comes to a stop, a bit wobbly when he gets off the bike and sits down on the grass to stretch.

The skyline of Boston looms in the distance beneath a cloudless sky and Matthew smiles at the simple reward for his efforts. They only have a few weeks left here and while they've been out to some of the area's best restaurants and checked out the waterfront and historical sites, it's been more of a working visit than a vacation, weekends spent recovering more than exploring.

For now, the plan is to return to London. Mary begins training for Paladin in a few weeks and filming will start in the New Year back in Toronto. It's their second home, having lived there for years already and with Alex and Anna nearby, he's grateful they'll be there instead of in some strange city.

He's always found inspiration there, also, having directed two movies in the city and written countless treatments. Wandering the streets late at night or sitting on a patio in the afternoons is a pleasure that feels far different from London, Paris or New York. Toronto is where he endured his harshest struggles and achieved his greatest success. It's where he and Mary fell in love again. It'll do both of them good to be back.

Leaning over and grabbing his foot, he stretches out his hamstring and quadriceps, his eyes drifting from the city to a mum and her little girl playing with their dog. Matthew's mind wanders, his tendency to look for stories automatically creating an entire world for these three to live in. She's not a stay-at-home mum, but a policewoman or emergency room doctor and this is a rare day off for her. The dog was a gift for their daughter because she loves golden labs and to give her a playmate when mum has to work nights. The girl attends private school, the family pouring all of their money into giving her the best education they can, the best life they can, no matter the sacrifice.

He smiles as they keep playing together. It's funny to him how he never imagines a typical family story. There always needs to be a complication or two in whatever he comes up with.

From when they were children, Mary has been ambitious, driven, more determined than anyone he's ever known. It's part of her allure, this fire within her to always demand more. When that singular focus is trained upon him, he's never felt more alive. Having Lady Mary Crawley entirely devoted to him is addictive. Those rare moments where they shut out the world and only the two of them exist are indescribable. Even when they were filming Damocles, he would often ignore the other actors and crew members and be in the scene with her, playing off each other and doing everything to draw out their best performance.

He is selfish when it comes to his wife and that fact nags at him constantly. The same characteristics that he loves about her – her razor-sharp mind and wit, her soft and loyal side, her strange but adorable sense of humour and her dazzling beauty – are admired by millions the world over. He deplores how possessive he can be, how admittedly he would prefer if she never worked with another director ever again and if the only projects she ever did were with him from now on. It's an irrational desire but one that he struggles to stamp out. Matthew's parents were married for decades before his father passed away and he can barely remember his mother having any male friends at all, let alone being a flirt at parties. Despite the spotlight shining so brightly and squarely upon him and Mary, he would be quite content to fade away in between their films. For all of his progressive attitudes and his genuine pride in all that Mary has achieved, he doesn't like to share her.

He takes a long swig of his sports drink before slowly getting back to his feet. His legs are still a bit rubbery but they should be fine for the ride home, particularly aided by the fast downhill he now gets to enjoy. He clipped one foot into the pedal and took a last look at Boston before easing onto the bike and turning to leave. The sun should be out long enough to carry him home and he briefly ponders what he'll have for dinner before he picks up his pace.

Rented Home of Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley, Newton, Massachusetts, USA, October 2020

Mary blinks, the darkness of the bedroom allowing her eyes to adjust more easily. She takes a moment to wake up, her mind remembering the last night's events in a slow replay. She wrapped her last scene yesterday so they went out last night to celebrate. The production would continue for a couple more weeks but she was finally released. Their evening began with dinner and drinks before moving on to a bar where there were more drinks, some pool at one point, more drinks after that and some surprisingly good karaoke before Matthew took her home.

She smiled and hummed pleasantly, feeling her husband spooned behind her. She traced his forearm draped across her stomach, the muscles evident even in repose. They had gone straight to sleep when they got home, the comfort of their bed knocking her out quickly given her drunken state. She lifted his arm slowly and slid out from the bed, making her way in the darkness to the ensuite bathroom.

The glare of the lights made her cringe before she went over to the vanity to wash her face. She drank plenty of water during the evening, so she isn't in too bad a shape this early morning. Smiling at her reflection, she certainly is still a bit drunk, but not unpleasantly so.

Their time in America did nothing to change her alabaster skin. Running her hand along her bare breasts and down over her firm stomach, she was proud of her figure. The demands of Paladin would require she be in top fitness and her training regimen over the summer had her on a decent start. Empress Jade had not graced a screen for years and she was determined to have the movie version of her character be as strong, beautiful and impressive as ever.

She picked up her phone and looked over her texts, emails and social media. There were messages from Paul, Jean-Paul and Xavier back in Paris, the trio of men involved in the movies she did in France after her career stalled in Hollywood. It was a delicate balance keeping them interested while also maintaining her other options. They expected preferential treatment since they had helped resurrect her career and while it wasn't imperative that she ever work in France again, she did enjoy the attention she received there. In France she was more of a star, more adored and appreciated, and Paul was far more accommodating than the studios in America.

Stroking the egos of powerful men in the business and making herself appear indispensable were skills she had developed for years. It wasn't always palatable, particularly given that her husband avoided such games, but now the stakes were so much higher. When she was younger, it was her status in Society that she was chasing. Now, it was her career and the one thing that defined her more than any other.

She turned around and looked back over her shoulder at her fit bottom, laughing as she wiggled her hips a bit. There was still a side of her that enjoyed being lusted over. She was proud of her body considering how much effort she went to and how the industry emphasized such superficial things. She knew her success was built on her acting skill since there were countless gorgeous women around who had not achieved what she had so far, yet it was a nice shot to her ego to be considered a talented actress and also grace numerous best dressed and most beautiful lists.

Deciding against drunk texting any of the men who had messaged her last night, she switched over to her Twitter and Instagram feeds. Anna did a great job of maintaining her accounts and pics from her final day of filming were already up. There were the usual enthusiastic responses from fans who could not wait to see the mini-series when it came out on Apple TV Plus. Sometimes maintaining her brand took more effort than she would like, however, it was certainly paying off. Her number of followers had spiked following the release of Damocles and all the press and marketing she and Matthew had done. Maintaining that momentum was a daily challenge.

Matthew managed his own social media accounts, though he didn't post very often unless he was filming. She went over his last photos, a few shots of some meals they had in Boston over the past months and one last one of him cycling with a local riding club.

You are so fucking hot! DM me and I'll do anything you want!

She rolled her eyes at the juvenile comments he received. Though she had her fair share of rabid admirers, Matthew did draw a significant number of thirsty females. He was oblivious to them and she didn't pay them much attention, though reading their blatant propositions to her husband was annoying.

She put her phone down and looked at herself in the mirror once again, her eyebrow arching in question before she turned out the lights and headed back to bed.

Matthew was still asleep when she crawled back under the covers. The first rays of sunlight had crept past the blinds and lightened the bedroom a few shades. That forelock of blond hair that he seemed to be unable to keep away from his face was hanging down once again. The duvet had slipped down after she got out of bed and his chest and abs were bare to her gaze now. She smiled as she kneeled next to him. It was a wonder why he wasn't more full of himself considering how gorgeous he was. All of that cycling and working out regularly gave him a tantalizing physique. Armani had never asked him to pose topless in any of the ads he did for them, but she always found herself musing that he could easily compete with any of the models they used for their more risqué campaigns.

She frowned a bit as she remembered more moments from last night, particularly how one of the bartenders had swooned over him, even ignoring other patrons to try and chat him up. He had been polite as always before taking his order and heading back to their table, but Mary didn't fail to notice how the bartender kept stealing glances at them and even asked for a photo with Matthew as they were leaving the bar.

Thinking back over their stay here, she spent most days on set and only saw him for the odd meal here and there. When she wasn't on the call list, they spent their days together, but keeping in touch otherwise was difficult. She kept her phone off during filming and often would have numerous cute messages waiting from him when she went back to her trailer. She never had much time to reply back, often leaving the texts unanswered by the time she got back home.

Decades of knowing each other, years of dating and now the past two as husband and wife had built their bond and their trust, but she knew it was a continuous project. Her parents were English aristocracy and divorce was frowned upon in their world even to this day. She admired that they were disgustingly in love so many years later, though their lives were so inextricably linked that they wouldn't even know how to separate.

Her marriage was so very different. Her and Matthew's careers almost forced them to live apart regularly and they spent so much time pretending to be other people that returning to a place where they were connected – both physically and emotionally – took work. It was a cliché that celebrity couples never lasted, but the symptoms were very real. Being in sync with one's partner was hard enough for normal people with normal lives. Throw in so many interests and individuals competing for the limited time each of them had and she could easily see how people in this business drifted apart. It was so easy to escape into oneself or spend time with people who didn't know about her history and baggage like he did. Sometimes, the allure of behaving recklessly and forgetting herself was tempting.

They were managing for now since Matthew was adamant that they either work together or that he would not film whenever she was. The time they spent apart since their wedding was brief, but she wasn't naïve to think they could maintain that as their careers continued to improve. Going to Boston or Toronto was easy enough, or even London or Paris, but not all of their projects would be so conveniently scheduled and located. They both had a tendency to block out everything and everyone when they were working, which made them excellent actors but was not necessarily conducive to being a supportive partner.

Her eyes came to rest on his sleeping face, his lips curled just slightly, as though he was having a pleasant dream. If she asked him to quit and drop everything and be nothing more than her husband, he would do it. She couldn't say the same for herself and that imbalance between them had gnawed at her going all the way back to their first nervous kisses as teenagers. There was a belief, a faith that Matthew had in her and in them that was almost terrifying in its simplicity and strength. He would follow her to the ends of the Earth. Of course, they argued, probably more than most couples given how stubborn they both were, but he was always happy with his life so long as she was in it. The very idea that he would seek anything from anyone else was unheard of to him.

She smirked before getting out of bed and walking quietly over to her walk-in closet. Matthew was always focused on living in the moment and not worrying about the future. Perhaps she should do the same, if only for whatever time they had remaining before the day dawned.

The dresser at the back of the closet held the jewellery she had brought with her from home. Fiddling with her diamond engagement and wedding rings, she grinned when she located the gorgeous Harry Winston diamond necklace he had bought her for their wedding. She very rarely wore it but had packed it for exactly such an occasion as was presenting itself now. She snapped it around her neck and scooped up the matching dangling earrings, playing with her hair slightly as she appraised herself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

The familiar warmth of arousal bloomed across her chest as she slid a lacy pair of panties up her legs. For someone with such a vivid imagination, Matthew was sometimes amusingly timid in voicing his desires. He often bought her expensive lingerie but didn't specifically demand that she wear any of it. Through repeated trials, she had learned what appealed to him the most and her smile widened as she pulled the long stockings on to complete her daring outfit. Not surprisingly, Matthew didn't care much for her wearing white or black. Those colours were too common for his taste. She turned slowly to make sure the dark red set was on properly. When she emerged back into the bedroom, she congratulated herself upon seeing him still fast asleep.

Moving behind him this time, she eased the duvet down his body, pressing light kisses to his shoulder as her bare breasts pressed against his broad back. He smacked his lips and took her hand, bringing it around and kissing it before holding it against his chest. She laughed to herself at the gesture. The poor man had no idea what he was in for.

"Darling," she whispered, licking his ear playfully as her hand slid down his front.

"Mmm," he grunted in reply, still mainly asleep.

"I love you," she said, kissing the sensitive spot on his neck.

"Love you," he mumbled.

"You're so good to me. I want to be good to you," she continued, knowing he was barely hearing her.

"Mmm," he sighed, still facing away from her.

She grinned as her fingers found his length and stroked him slowly. Reliable as ever, his body reacted instantly and while he was still teetering on the edge of lucidity, she pounced.

"Turn over, darling. I want to suck your big cock," she purred, almost laughing at how ridiculously wanton she sounded but knowing exactly the effect it would have on him.

"Mmm," he groaned, not registering her dirty talk straight away but allowing her to put him on his back.

Her pulse jumped as she leaned over him, feeling him swell in her hand before she gave him a long swipe of her tongue. As she heard his first genuine gasp of near wakefulness, she closed her mouth around him and took him in.

"Fuck," he snarled. His eyes shot open, the dim haze of the bedroom still allowing him to make out the shape of her head moving on him. His hand drifted to her stocking-clad leg, stroking her calf in appreciation.

A lewd gagging sound came from her throat as she pushed down deeper on him, drawing a moan from both of them. She felt her own arousal mounting, the thrill of pleasing him like this emboldening her.

He fumbled for the nightstand light switch, needing to see her fully.

"Fuck," he shouted, the light showing off his gorgeous wife topless and bent over, her ass raised delectably and her mouth full of him. Her dark brown eyes held a playful glint telling him she was only just beginning.

He watched in rapture, his eyes moving from her going down on him to her bottom swaying so close. As his own pleasure mounted, he could no longer remain still and grasping her legs, he pulled her across his chest before reaching up and tearing her panties off impatiently.

Her eyes went wide at being handled so firmly. She realized his intent a second before he raised his head, spread her legs and snaked his tongue across her wet centre.

"Matthew, fuck, yes!" she cried, releasing him and arching her back as his lips and tongue reciprocated all she had been doing for him. His hands kept a tight grip on her bottom, holding her in place as he delved inside her with knowing skill. After several moments, she could not help but grind against his face, surrendering to the rapture of his attentions.

"So good," she moaned, shaking her head to try and cling to some semblance of control. As much as she knew he would delight in sending her over so easily, she would not allow him such a convincing victory. Licking her lips, she took hold of him again and bent down, proud of herself when she felt him tense when she claimed him again with her mouth.

The image of the two of them like this sent her desire soaring. Sex with Matthew was always good, but these bouts of passion where they were desperate for each other made her particularly randy. She gasped around his hard length in her mouth when he added two fingers to his lips and tongue, pushing her ever closer to the edge. In reply, she fondled him and bobbed her head, their naked bodies moving together.

Mercilessly he hit her spot over and over, teasing her with light touches before pressing down firmly. She threw her head back and wailed, her legs shaking in his hold as the precipice rushed closer.

"Oh, yes! Make me cum!" she squealed, too frantic to care how she sounded. He rubbed her with one hand and teased her ass with the other before his devilish mouth sent her flying.

Her whole body seemed to seize as she gulped in air, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her. She fell on to her side, curling up slightly as her very pores seemed to become hypersensitive.

He kissed her softly, from her legs up to her hips, his hands soothing her as she shook. When she finally came down, he had a wicked smirk on his lips and a flush of energy filled her upon seeing him all smug and pleased with himself.

"That was a most welcome wake-up," he grinned.

"I'm not done with you, yet," she croaked.

"You're not?" he chuckled. "You sure about that?"

Her hand reached out and took hold of his shaft, hard and warm from her mouth. "Very sure. I'm going to ride you so you can play with my ass while I take all of you again and again."

He swallowed audibly and she smirked at putting him off-balance so easily. Keeping his gaze, she raised up on to her hands and knees, giving him a full view of her naked profile before crawling over him and turning to face his feet. Sitting up, she glanced back at him over her shoulder, smoothing her hair out and letting it fall down her back.

"You love watching me, don't you?" she asked. "Watch this."

He grit his teeth at the feel of her hand grasping his length and rubbing him against her wet centre.

"Mmm, you feel so good," she teased before taking in a sharp breath as she settled down upon him.

He held her hips, allowing her time to adjust before daring to give her more. His eyes darted everywhere, from her hair to the taper of her back, from her perfect ass shaking as she moved faster to the primal sight of him filling her more and more. He didn't know what had gotten into her this morning but he was loving the mood she was in.

"Fuck!" she moaned when he spanked her lightly. She braced her hands on his legs and rocked her hips, whimpering as his entire length filled her. "Do it again!"

His smile was predatory as he smacked her ass harder, thrusting his hips up so he could drive even deeper inside her on her every plunge. She was moving quickly now, lifting up then dropping down on him, squeezing him with each movement. Chasing her second release, she rode him hard, moaning louder and louder as his thrusts stretched her delightfully.

"I'm so close," she cried, grinding down against him and pinching her breast.

"Be loud for me," he ordered, spanking her again. "Let me hear you."

"Matthew!" she shouted, the tension in her core unfurling as though heat was flying through her veins. She took several deep thrusts from him before she fell back into his arms, still joined with him and feeling the last of her climax spread through her.

"Mmm, that's it, yeah," he nodded, kissing her cheek as she shook in his hold. His one hand played with her breast while he slowed his hips, prolonging her peak.

"You're so big," she drawled, kissing him sloppily.

He grinned and kissed her back, his fingers trailing up and down her body. Keeping her on top of him, her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her, he made no move to pick up again just yet. Instead, he kissed and massaged her, making her blush by telling her how beautiful and sexy she was. When her breathing calmed, he felt her melt and relax into his hold.

"You haven't finished," she noted, her voice soft and light, as though she was floating.

"Not yet," he replied, kissing her and swiping his tongue against hers.

"How do you want me?" she asked between kisses. "On my back? On my hands and knees, ass up for you? You made me cum twice so you can do anything you want to me, anything at all."

He pulled her tighter against him and kissed her fervently, exactly the response she wanted. His hand moved down her body and slipped between her legs, feeling how soaked she was.

"Fuck me, darling," she hissed. "I need you."

Even in his hungry state, he took his time, kissing her over and over while moving her the way he wanted. She lay back against the pillows, smirking as he raised both her arms above her head and pressed them down. He licked her breasts while lifting her legs, spreading them wide and raising them to rest on his shoulders.

"Please," she begged, staring up at him in anticipation.

He nodded, his smile turning wicked as he speared into her, her legs trapped and her hips titled perfectly to take all of him.

"Yes!" she breathed, his first thrust pushing in halfway. "Fuck, so good!"

His blue eyes filled her vision, his hips starting off slow and deliberate, moving deeper within her before drawing back. Steadily he moved faster, filling her up before pulling out and driving back in.

She reached down to rub herself, her eyes never leaving his. With every stroke she squeezed him, trying to push him to the brink the way he had done to her. Amused at her challenge, he pinned her arms back above her head and thrust harder, drawing a gasp from her parted lips.

Her hips bucked against his the faster he went, her cries filling the air to mingle with the sound of his every thrust into her and the shaking of the bed.

"Yes! Oh, God, fill me!" she pleaded.

He groaned louder, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rushed to finish.

"Inside me, please," she whinged. "Cum inside me!"

"Mary!" he shouted, plunging as deep as he could go and letting loose.

She reached up and pulled him down to her, her legs falling down his sides to cradle him. The warmth of him spreading through her set her off and she cried out, clinging on to him as they both shook.

After several moments he turned them over, holding her against his chest as they both took deep breaths.

"Mmm, good morning," she said lazily, tracing her fingers over his chest.

"It most certainly is," he chuckled. "I could get used to that."

"Well, these are our last days here," she laughed. "Perhaps you deserve some extra attention having been so very patient with me."

"That almost sounds like a promise," he smiled, lifting her chin and kissing her lightly.

"Does it? You want to wake up with my mouth on your cock every morning, do you?" she grinned.

"Or, I could wake you up in a similarly enjoyable fashion," he replied.

She kissed him playfully. "All right, you're on. Morning sex for the rest of the week until we fly home."

"Just the morning?" he chided her. "I should hope our afternoons and evenings would be entirely free also."

"Maybe. I'll have to see," she teased.

"Why don't we take a shower and discuss it?" he suggested, reaching down and smacking her ass.

"Communication is quite important in a marriage," she nodded.

He scooped her up in his arms, her laugh following them to the bathroom.

fin