Disclaimer: Don't own any downton abbey characters. They belong to the awesome Julian Fellowes. A/N: For all intents and purposes of this story, there is a special room in downton where the cook makes the chicken and pudding. This is my first fanfic here and I would appriciate any kind of reviews :)

"Daisy! Get in here!" Mrs. Patmore called. Daisy rushed towards the voice in the back room, and found Mrs. Patmore roasting a chicken. Several military friends of Lord Grantham were coming to Downton tonight to discuss the war, and everything had to be perfect. Mrs. Patmore was even trying some new recipes, which made her all the more stressed.

Daisy took a quick glance at a nearby clock. It was 12:00; the time Mrs. Patmore usually starts preparing luncheon. "Mrs. Patmore, shouldn't you be –"

"I should be sending you to the kitchen to get me the salt!" Daisy scurried away, for fear of being scolded. As she reached for salt, she noticed a few receipt cards on the counter. Judging by their titles – a sandwich, a tart, and a sort of cake – she assumed they were for luncheon. She grabbed them along with the salt.

"Mrs. Patmore, are these –"

"Blast it, girl! Don't burn yourself! You don't know what you're doing here! I'll call if I need you again." Daisy knew how much Mrs. Patmore needed to focus. If things went wrong tonight it could cost her her job. She left for the kitchen again.

She scanned the receipt cards. They were all familiar to her after working for two years under Mrs. Patmore's direction. She glanced up at the clock. 12:05. She looked back at the receipt cards. Well, if Mrs. Patmore wasn't going to start them, she might as well.

Daisy followed the receipt directly. She was careful to do everything as Mrs. Patmore would have. Three-fourths a tablespoon of this, a cup of that…

William wandered into the kitchen. When he saw only Daisy, he figured she was tending the fire. He knew she shouldn't be that busy, as he had heard Mrs. Patmore yell at her to go away. So, when he saw she was putting this and that in a pot, he had to ask, "What are you doing?"

Without looking up, Daisy responded, "Well, Mrs. Patmore's so focused on dinner that I thought I might as well start luncheon for her." William nodded. He wanted to say something about how she looked like she knew exactly what she was doing, but he remembered there was silver to polish. He probably would have botched up his words anyway.

"Daisy! Where are you! I need the stuffing!" Mrs. Patmore yelled. Daisy made sure the range was set to right and grabbed the stuffing. "Daisy!"

"Right here Mrs. Patmore!" she said.

Mrs. Patmore sighed. "Now take this salt back. And careful around the pudding!"

Daisy nodded and suddenly noticed the clock. 12:45. "But Mrs. Patmore –"

"Go on!" The girl went back to the kitchen. Was Mrs. Patmore ever going to make luncheon? Or would she have to do it all herself? She glanced at the cake receipt card on the counter. Well, now she had the teaspoon of salt.

1:35. After noticing that the correct amount of time had passed, Daisy tasted the berry tart filling. She made a face. She must have done something wrong. This tasted like…well Daisy hadn't tasted much in her days. She checked the receipt card. No, everything looked in order. Her eyes scanned the kitchen. Surely something could make this horrid thing taste better. Finally she landed on the sugar. Of course!

Two tablespoons of sugar and a quarter cup of cream later the tart filling was ready. William peeked in the kitchen again. "Mrs. Patmore still consumed with the chicken?"

"Aye," Daisy responded, "She still hasn't even mentioned the luncheon."

William stuck his finger in the berry tart for a taste. "Well, you seem to be doing a pretty good job by yourself," he ventured.

Daisy smiled up at him. When she noticed what he was doing, she slapped his hand playfully. "That's for upstairs, you fool. They don't want silver polish in their food." She sighed. The servant's luncheon isn't even started yet."

"I would offer to help, but –"

"William!" Mr. Carson called. Daisy snickered at the opportune timing. William simpered and followed the call.

"Daisy!" Daisy put the cake in the oven just as her name was called.

"Coming Mrs. Patmore!" The girl arrived at the back room as quickly as she could.

"Take this chicken and put it in the big pot with this broth I prepared. It needs to simmer for at least five hours. Not high heat, mind you. Keep the setting on low."

Daisy remembered the cake. "But Mrs. Patmore, I've got –"

"Get on with it girl!" Daisy looked at the clock again. 2:00. Luncheon was in two hours and Mrs. Patmore still didn't realize it.

"Mrs. Patmore, when are you –"

"I need to focus on this pudding, Daisy! So get that chicken on the range!" Daisy just nodded and walked out of the room.

The chicken was set correctly (or so Daisy hoped), the berry tarts were done, the sandwiches were almost done, the cake was baking…the servants still needed something to eat. Daisy knew the receipts she had used were far too fancy for a servant's meal. What did she usually have for luncheon?

Scones. Small sandwiches. Tea. She looked around the kitchen. Where did Mrs. Patmore keep the receipts?

Two hours later, the upstairs luncheon was completely done. The servant's luncheon would take another hour, but they wouldn't be eating it for another hour anyway. The chicken was still sitting in the pot, and Mrs. Patmore hadn't called in a while. Daisy walked into the servant's hall to rest a moment.

Mr. Carson came into the hall and turned to her. "They're ready to eat. Where's the luncheon?" Daisy scurried into the kitchen and brought out three trays, one after the other. William took the last two (Thomas being gone he always got the extra work) and mouthed "good job." Either that or "ka-chow." Daisy wasn't very good at reading lips. She smiled nonetheless and went back to the kitchen to finish up the servant's meal.

The scones weren't quite right. Of course, Daisy always thought they tasted rather bland. She surveyed the kitchen. Butter caught her eye. That should do it.

As soon as she added it, Mrs. Patmore was calling again. "This pudding needs some more of that dried apple!" She glanced around the kitchen. What dried apples? "Hurry up, girl!" Daisy started to get nervous. Did she accidentally use the dried apples in the luncheon? She looked in and out of cupboards. "Are you alive, Daisy?"

"Where are they, Mrs. Patmore?" She frantically opened drawers.

"Oh, they're right here!" Mrs. Patmore exclaimed, coming into the kitchen. She grabbed a basket of dried apples that were right near the door. Of course! Daisy had put them there this morning. All the excitement over the last few hours had made her forget.

Mrs. Patmore exited the kitchen by way of the servant's hall. Almost all the servants were there, expecting luncheon. Mrs. Patmore was heading towards the back room when Miss O'Brien asked, "And where's our food?"

The cook stopped. She turned around slowly. Her shock that she had forgotten luncheon soon turned into anger, which of course was aimed at Daisy. "I don't know why that girl didn't tell me! I was focused on the chicken, you see, and –"

Just then, Daisy arrived with a tray of food. She came back with another, and finally tea. A few servants started eating, but most just started at Daisy and Mrs. Patmore, not knowing what to think of this. "You were so busy," Daisy began. "I tried to tell you but you need dinner perfect tonight, I know, and when it was noon I –"

"What did you put in this?" Branson asked, interrupting her. He was holding a half-eaten scone in his hand.

"Lots of butter," Daisy responded nervously. "And salt."

Branson smiled. "It's really good." The other servants began to eat and made appropriate noises that meant they were pleased with the meal. Daisy smiled proudly and Mrs. Patmore just stood there in shock.

William came in then, and turned immediately to Daisy. "You've been summoned after you're done eating."

"What did you do?" Mrs. Patmore asked angrily. If this girl cost her her job…

"She cooked well," William responded, as though it was the most normal thing in the world for a kitchen maid to cook well for His Lordship. "They said to tell Mrs. Patmore it was exceptionally delicious today, and I said that I believe Daisy made it, and then they were shocked and asked to see her after she was done eating."

Daisy was so shocked she could hardly manage a smile. "They said it was good?"

"You made the luncheon for upstairs?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"Well Mrs. Patmore was so busy and –"

"If they liked it, what's the harm?" Branson asked, helping himself to another scone. No one seemed to have an argument for this. Mrs. Patmore went to the back room and everyone silently agreed to not disturb her for another week. Everyone also agreed (not so silently) that Daisy was a phenomenal cook. Daisy was thrilled.

"You asked to see Daisy, m'lord?" William said, entering the library. His Lordship was at the desk, and Her Ladyship was sitting in a sofa.

"Yes. Do show her in." William motioned for Daisy to enter. She wiped her hands on her dress one more time. Never had she been spoken to by a Lord, much less the one that determined if she continued her job. William gave her hand an inconspicuous reassuring squeeze before he left the room.

"So Daisy, we understand you were the one who cooked the delicious luncheon today."

"Y-yes, m'lord," Daisy stuttered.

"Well first of all, it was very good." This helped ease Daisy's nervousness a bit and she smiled momentarily. "Is there anything wrong with Mrs. Patmore?"

"No, m'lord. You see, she was very concerned with dinner and I think she might have just forgot so I made it for her."

"How old are you, Daisy?" Her Ladyship asked.

"I-I'm 17, m'lady. But I'll be 18 in December."

"That will do," Her Ladyship responded, more to herself than anyone else.

"You see, Daisy," His Lordship continued, coming over to her, "Her Ladyship and I were thinking that we could use you as a cook when Mrs. Patmore, well, is no longer able to function as a cook. Her eyesight cannot be completely recovered, we understand. And with this recent display of forgetfulness, well…"

Her Ladyship spoke again. "We were thinking of giving you a trial. You could be cook for a day, see how it works out. Is Friday convenient? No one will be visiting then."

Daisy could scarce believe her luck. "Of course, m'lady. Thank you." Instead of being fired, she now had a secure job for the rest of her life if she wanted it.

"Be sure you clear it with Mrs. Hughes," Her Ladyship added. "And Mrs. Patmore."

"Of course, m'lady," Daisy responded, now grinning from ear to ear.

"William," His Lordship called. The footman entered. "Show Daisy back downstairs please."

As soon as Daisy was back in the servant's hall, all eyes were on her. William squeezed her hand again, though it was not to give Daisy encouragement, for she certainly did not need it. "They said I'm to be cook when Mrs. Patmore leaves, and I'm going to be cook for the day on Friday!" Luckily, Mrs. Patmore was not here to hear this. Daisy would not have cared anyway. A cook! Imagine that!