A/N I do not own the characters. I only borrowed them from Mr. Fellowes and ITV. No copyright violation intended.

(I had a problem "enjoying" their arguments in 03x06 so I wrote this)(thank you beta readers she-stole-my-heart-away, heckofatime and kouw!)

There was a hesitant knock on the door of her sitting room that she did not want to answer. Not after the last few days when all they had done was fight and argue over everything. She had tried her best to cope with it, had always found an answer or argument that would top his. Like she always did. In the end, however, she could no longer ignore the comments that he had only said to hurt her. At least that was how it felt.

She had left the servant's hall directly after their supper to find some solitude in her sitting room. It was the only place in the house aside from her bedroom that was solely hers, a refuge from everything that happened beyond her closed door in this big old house.

But you disappoint me.

You can be as tough as you like…

His words echoed in her head, over and over again. After all she had gone through, after he had sung for her, worried about her, she was still a disappointment in his eyes? All because she had had the courage to help and support a girl that had once worked under this roof? Why did it still matter that Ethel had at one point seen no hope in her life anymore and ended up on the streets, when now she had found her way back to a normal life? The girl had learned from her past. And so should he.

He still stood behind the door. There was a second knock. "Mrs. Hughes? May I come in?"

No, she was angry with him and whatever he would do tonight would cause her to forgive him once again. One glass of wine and a half-hearted excuse always did the trick. Not this time. She remained silent and did not answer until he heard him turn away, his steps echoing on the stone floor leading away from her door down the corridor to his pantry.

She should be asleep by now but instead she was wide awake, her mind busy processing what had happened between them in the last few weeks and months. The darkness that surrounded her felt only right. Her eyes admittedly slowly adjusted to it but there was no sign of daylight yet, no way out of the night. The same could be said for her thoughts. Underneath her duvet her feet were as cold as her hands. And her heart, she thought. There had been a moment when she was certain that their relationship had crossed that invisible line between friendship and something stronger. She had seen a glimpse of the real Charles Carson then, the cheerful man that for once did not care about his job, propriety, standards or rules but only for her. She had hoped he would see the world with different eyes. Embrace the change, the fact that nothing ever stayed the same and things could be lost the next minute. Yet he had fallen back into his old habits, ignored whatever it was that made him sing for her and put on his façade again.

Life was too short to ignore the world they lived in at the moment. And it was too short to continue with their fighting. She would no longer argue with him or passionately defend her opinion in their discussions. Maybe he would realize that a passive Elsie Hughes was not what he wanted. Maybe it would make him understand that his words had a deeper meaning even out of context. She wanted the caring and supportive Charles Carson back, along with the one that was ready and willing to take a step further in their relationship.

She was late for breakfast the next morning though the rest of the staff seemed to neither notice nor care. They knew better than to question their superior's actions and kept their eyes on their plates after they had acknowledged her presence.

When she took her seat to his right, one quick glance reassured her that at least he had wondered or worried why she had not been downstairs at the same time as him. A fleeting look into her eyes, an almost imperceptible raise of his eyebrows was usually enough to make her forgive him his behaviour from the previous day. Today she would not forgive him.

With a smile on her face she took her seat. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mrs. Hughes." He had his gaze still fixed on her. "Are you alright?" he added in a whisper.

Actually, she thought, I am angry with you, disappointed and hurt. "Certainly."

He furrowed his brow, clearly not convinced by her unusual cheerfulness. But he did not press her to say more. Instead he returned to eating his breakfast in silence, not addressing her again. Only once did she catch him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

She had been busy all day. The christening needed to be organised, orders were written, menus planned and the rota revised to delegate the extra work equally. She had not left her sitting room all morning which also meant that there had not been another argument between them. Mrs. Patmore had asked for the store cupboard key which she had handed out without any comment or her usual reluctance. Anna wanted a day off for a last visit to York prison. But Charles Carson had not found his way to her sitting room, surprisingly.

Only when she got ready for a walk down to the village to negotiate with the greengrocer and the butcher, he suddenly appeared in her doorway.

"You are going out?"

She adjusted her hat in front of the mirror and paid him no attention.

"To visit Ms. Parks?" He tried to keep his voice free from the dislike and prejudices he held towards Ethel but without success. She could hear the again he mentally added, although he did not say it out loud.

"There is a christening this weekend and I have to secure the provisions and discuss the prices with the local merchants." She would not hit back at him. Not this time. Turning around, she realized the smile on his face. Should she interpret it as an excuse for his comment on Ethel? Or did it reflect the relief he had felt after hearing that she would not visit the fallen woman again? Elsie had once been able to read between the lines when it came to Charles Carson. He was like an open book to her most days.

"Oh, I see." The smile was still there but he remained standing in the doorway, had not yet crossed the threshold to enter her room.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Carson?" She took a few steps towards him, closing the buttons of her coat and picking up her handbag from the small table as she did so, ready to leave.

"No. We can talk later I guess, when you are back. There were a few things I wanted to ask you last night."

And which you had no chance to ask because I refused to talk to you. "About the christening I suppose?" She would only talk about their work. Nothing more, nothing less.

He hesitated, opened his mouth as if to answer her question but closed it again, obviously unsure whether to reply at all. She fixed his gaze. "Well, I must be off."

As soon as she took another step forward to pass him, he decided to answer. "Yes. Of course, we have to organise some more things I guess."

She nodded her approval and left the house through the back door. Her plan seemed to have an effect on him already.

Of course she also went to see Ethel and to inquire about her progress in the kitchen at Crawley house. After all, she had never told him she would not. Mrs. Crawley even invited her for a cup of tea which she gladly accepted.

"I knew it was wrong to believe everyone would be happy about my decision, Mrs. Hughes." Isobel Crawley took a sip from the fresh tea Ethel had served minutes before. The expression on her face revealed that the young woman had done a good job this time, obviously something Mrs. Crawley did not necessarily expect.

"Ma'am I am very grateful that you gave Ethel a second chance. And as I said before, it was never supposed to be easy." The tea was in fact good.

"Yes, I have realized this now. You see, I thought no one would care about her past when they saw how hard she worked here to get a life back." She offered her some biscuits. "Ethel made them."

Elsie took on. The biscuits, too, were edible and tasted almost the same like Mrs. Patmore's. It would be a lie to say she was not impressed. "People will always judge you by your past, Ma'am. By the faults you have made and the wrong decisions."

Mrs. Crawley let out a sigh. "That is true, Mrs. Hughes."

"Even I judged Ethel once." And I also threw her out, left her on her own and did forget about her after a while, because I was too busy solving my own problems.

"But you support her now. I am very grateful that Mrs. Patmore helped her in the kitchen." Isobel Crawley smiled and pointed at the biscuits. "The first ones were actually bitter and almost black."

They shared a laugh. "Mr. Carson is still not very pleased about all of this, isn't he?" The older woman inquired.

This was indeed the reason for their recent fights, although the real problem lay hidden underneath layers of carefully ignored and suppressed fears. Added on top of this, was his inability to accept change, to see the good in people that had made mistakes once. He was stubborn at times, and one-sided. Whereas for her there was not only black and white but also shades in between.

"Not at all, I am afraid, Ma'am."

News travelled incredibly fast. The moment she opened the back door and entered the familiarity of the house again, he stepped out of his pantry into the corridor, arms behind his back, his back rigid and straight like a statue. Without asking she knew what he already meant to know. Someone had obviously seen her entering or leaving Crawley house. How could she avoid a confrontation now? Staying passive when he was already flaming with anger would not be easy.

"Mr. Carson." It was an effort to keep her voice indifferent and calm. Letting him know immediately that the way he stood there already caused her to tense up, was unwise. So she kept her face relaxed and started to undo the buttons on her coat. "Is something the matter?"

"May I speak to you?" In contrast to her voice, his sounded strained. "Now." He added like an afterthought.

A hardly audible sigh escaped her lips. Before she could roll her eyes at him, as was her usual habit, he had turned around. She followed him into his pantry, mentally preparing for another small and absolutely unnecessary discussion about propriety and standards.

He stood in front of his desk, hands still behind his back and looking down at her. As hard as it was, she tried to keep that smile on her face. Asking once more what the problem was.

"You know very well what the problem is, Mrs. Hughes. You said you would not visit Ms. Parks again."

She suppressed her initial reaction as best as she could. It was none of his business to tell her what to do. He was her equal and not entitled to give her any orders or reprimand her. And most certainly not when she had done nothing wrong and only inquired after a former employee. Before she answered, she had to take a deep breath to calm down and choke her anger.

"I didn't say I would not visit her, Mr. Carson. Besides I was with Mrs. Crawley not Ms. Parks." She waited for him to dress her down again. This time she was prepared. He would not hurt her again.

His lips had contorted into a thin line and his eyes could not meet her gaze, wandered across her body restlessly instead. "But you were at Crawley house?"

"Yes I was." One hand moved up to her hat to remove it, the other rearranged her hair absentmindedly; small gestures that he usually not associated with her during an argument. "I had a nice cup of tea."

She could see on his face that his anger was replaced by an increasing uneasiness. Her calm responses were so unlike her and not at all what he had expected. The butler had to sit down on the edge of his desk before he could react to her answer.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Hughes." With the index finger and thumb of his left hand he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I did not mean to spy on you or question you about your whereabouts."

"I am glad to hear this." She stayed in his pantry for a while longer, studying him closely while his eyes were fixed on a spot on the stone floor in front of him. He looked tired and exhausted in the dim yellow light of the few lamps he had lit to make his room a bit brighter. His hair was not exactly in place anymore; a curl had escaped and covered his forehead. Something he would not have allowed on a normal day. Maybe her decision had been wrong? Should she invite him for a cup of tea into her sitting room after dinner just to talk? Like they had done so many times before? Ignore their recent disagreements once again and pretend everything was like it always had been?

When he looked up, his face was void of emotions. "You have to understand that I cannot allow anymore gossip. I thought you of all people in this household would understand. But obviously I was wrong."

He had done it again. Indirectly he had admitted a second time within days what a disappointment she was in his eyes. She stood there staring blankly at him, unable to respond. His expression did not change. There was no apology in his eyes, no kindness in his features. Charles Carson was only a façade at this very moment. She would spend another evening on her own. And maybe a few more in the next days, until he saw reason and apologized or at least realized his mistake.

"We should discuss the festivities for the christening now", she managed to say after a while, anxious to keep the hurt and the anger out of her voice.

TBC