Afternoon Tea at Downton Abbey

[sg_wonderland]

 

 

Summary: Lord Grantham invites four mysterious strangers to afternoon tea

Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Downton Abbey

Rating: G

Word Count: 2023

Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, wish I did, you know who does, yadda, yadda, yadda

Author’s Notes: This came to life after a completely nonsensical Twitter conversation about crossovers.

 

Afternoon Tea at Downton Abbey

 

 

 

“Umph,” Jack remarked as he fell out of the gate. “Hey, kids, watch that first…” Daniel and Sam tumbled across him while Teal’c managed, just barely, to keep his feet. “Step.”

 

They disentangled themselves, dusted off and discovered nothing worse than a few bruises while exploring their surroundings.

 

“Sir, this looks like…”

 

“It’s a barn, Carter. In fact, it looks a lot like any barn on any farm in the Midwest.” He didn’t have to tell them to fan out; they were already perusing the structure.

 

“Jack!” Daniel sounded excited so he loped over to see what was up. “Look at this newspaper!”

 

Jack blinked at the masthead of the paper. “Is this what I think it is?”

 

“If you think it’s a March, 1913 copy of the London Times, then you’d be right. Jack, we’re on Earth! In 1913!”

 

“What do you make of this stuff, Daniel?” He pointed toward the shelves of junk.

 

“Egyptian.” Daniel pointed out a pair of bowls, longing to touch but restraining himself. “This is definitely faience.”

 

“King Tut?” Jack hunched down beside him.

 

Daniel shook his head. “Not until 1922. It makes sense, really, because most of the Egyptian digs were financed by English noblemen. This could belong to one of them.”

 

Jack realized this stuff would put a sparkle in the eye of any archaeologist, much less Daniel. “And you think we should go find this guy?”

 

“Oh, Daniel, that might not be a good idea.” Sam shook her head. “If we are on Earth, we have to limit our contact.”

 

“We didn’t screw up 1969, did we?” He challenged.

 

“As far as we know.”  

 

“Sam, I know we can’t tell them what’s coming. Anyway, do you suppose anyone would believe you if you told them the assassination of one man would eventually lead to a world war?”

 

She shook her head. “I suppose you’re right. But we can’t take these,” she held up her P90, “since they hadn’t been invented yet.”

 

“I don’t want to go roaming around unarmed. How about the Barettas?”

 

“Not until much later, I don’t think.”

 

“Okay,” Jack thought for a minute. “Okay, zats in your vests. We’ll hide the heavy stuff here.” They concealed their weapons and left the barn, walking out into a heavily wooded area.

 

They’d only been walking a couple of minutes when Jack held up a clenched fist. They all stopped. “That sounds an awful lot like a dog.”

 

“It does, sir.”

 

“Actually,” Jack started walking again, moving faster. “It sounds like a dog in trouble.” A couple of minutes later, Jack shouted, “Over here, guys!” He cautiously approached the dog, entangled in a fence. “Hey, girl, I’m just gonna see what I can do here. Daniel, keep her attention and don’t let her bite me. I have to cut this fence.”

 

Daniel knelt, speaking softly to the Labrador as he stroked her head. “Jack, how do you suppose she got tangled up?”

 

“Probably poachers cut the fence and she just walked into it. I’ve just about got her loose. I don’t think she’s hurt, just scared.” Jack worked silently while Daniel kept the dog distracted. “Okay, I think that’s it.” She rewarded her rescuers by bounding around, trying to lick both men at once. “Let’s get out of this before she gets stuck again. Come on, girl.”

 

The Lab ran out and onto a wide path, stopping to look back expectantly.

 

“Well, kids, I guess we’re going this way.”

 

*

 

 

Even Jack had to admit it was a nice place for a leisurely walk. The sun peeped through the heavy cover of trees, butterflies were inspecting the wildflowers and there was just the faintest ripple of water splashing across the creek that the Lab stopped to investigate.

 

The path wandered onto a graveled drive. “Well, what do you think?” Jack paused to look around. The dog eyed him curiously, and then set off barking, her ears perking up. In the distance, a man’s voice could be heard calling. “I guess we’re off to see a man about a dog.” Sam rolled her eyes at Daniel before following.

 

Within a few minutes, they came upon a man on one knee, enthusiastically petting the dog. He was dressed in what Sam thought of as country casual attire and used a walking cane to bring himself to his feet. “Good afternoon.”

 

The accent, Daniel noted, was British and cultured. “Good afternoon. We hope you don’t mind that we’re trespassing but we were just out exploring and found your dog. She was tangled in a downed fence.”

 

“Isis?” He looked down in concern at the dog currently circling the strangers.

 

“I think she’s fine, didn’t find any cuts but you’ve got a fence that’s been cut.” Jack offered.

 

“Bloody poachers!” He called Isis over and examined her. “As you say, she looks fine. Thank you for coming to her assistance.” He stretched out his hand toward Jack. “I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m Lord Grantham.”

 

Jack returned the firm handshake. “Always nice to meet a fellow dog lover. I’m Jack O’Neill, this is Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson and Teal’c.”

 

“Very pleased to meet you. May I ask what brings you to Downton?”

 

“Downton? Is that the name of your estate?” Daniel jumped in.

 

“Downton Abbey, yes.”

 

Jack sensed a rapidly approaching history lesson. “We’re explorers, just discovering new places.”

 

“Well, you’ve picked a good place for your adventures. Beautiful country.” He glanced around.

 

Jack nodded. “It’s hard to argue with that.”

 

“My wife and the girls prefer London but I fear I’m just a country lad at heart. And I’m not being a very good host. Come on to the house and we’ll have tea.”

 

“It’s hard to argue with that, either.” Jack fell into step beside him.

 

“Where exactly was the fence down? I shall have to get my man on that.”

 

 

*

 

Carson hurried to open the door. “Lord Grantham.” He ushered in the unexpected guests without a sign of surprise.

 

“Carson, we’ll need tea for our guests.”

 

Carson inspected the visitors and suppressed a shudder. “Very good, my lord. May I suggest the library?” The room was larger and there weren’t as many valuables to go missing into a stranger’s pocket, he thought suspiciously. Not to mention the chairs were sturdier.

 

“The library it is, then. Have you seen her ladyship?” He handed his walking stick and hat to the butler.

 

“Lady Grantham and the Dowager Lady Grantham are in the conservatory, selecting flowers to send to the church for the Madison christening tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I will arrange for the tea.” Carson departed.

 

“You have a beautiful home, Lord Grantham.” Daniel had been drawn to a tapestry. “Surely, this is a Persian Tabriz rug?”

 

“Indeed it is, young man,” a voice rang out from the foyer. “How discriminating of you to recognize it.”

 

“Mama, Cora,” Lord Grantham stepped forward and quickly made the introductions.

 

“Are you familiar with these sorts of rugs?” The dowager pointed her cane at the wall where the rug hung. Daniel started to step forward then paused. “Oh, please, proceed. I would love to hear your opinion.”

 

Daniel carefully looked at the rug, practically burying his nose in it before tentatively, reverently touching one of the colorful tassels. “Definitely from Tabriz, most likely mid-fifteenth century, in excellent condition.” He turned to grin at the elderly lady. “It’s exquisite.”

 

“My mother brought it back from a trip to the Middle East.”

 

“She had excellent taste.”

 

“You seem to have an equally discerning eye. For an American.”

 

“Oh, I spent most of my childhood in Egypt. These rugs are genuine pieces of art.” He caught her piercing gaze. “Ma’am, may I offer you my arm?”

 

“And manners, too.” She transferred her cane to her left hand and lightly laid her right hand in his elbow. “Egypt, you say.”

 

Jack frowned as Daniel breezed by. “I didn’t know the boy had it in him.”

 

*

 

“Mrs. Patmore, we have four visitors for tea, if you please.” Carson announced.

 

“Am I a magician, then? I’m to snap my fingers and have enough sandwiches for four more?” She contemplated for a moment. “Daisy, fetch me one of the chickens we’ve done for dinner and some more bread. We’ve plenty of cucumber for sandwiches and thank heavens today was baking day.” Waving her dishtowel at her apprentice, she noticed that Carson was still standing in the doorway. “Well, what else? Have we to put on a dinner for them as well?”

 

“One of the guests,” Carson glanced behind him to assure they were alone. “One of the guests is a…a Negro.”

 

Daisy re-entered the kitchen in time to catch the end of the sentence. She shrieked and clutched her chest, nearly dropping the chicken. “We’ll be murdered in our beds!”

 

“Girl! Mind where you put that chicken!” Mrs. Patmore snatched the hen from Daisy. “I don’t suppose Lord Grantham has invited a…a heathen to sit down to tea.”

 

Carson sighed. “And there was a young lady. She was wearing…she was wearing men’s trousers.”

 

Daisy made to run past him. “Oh. I want to see that!”

 

“The only thing you’ll be seeing is the backside of this spoon if you don’t get over here and start making sandwiches.” She set her lips for a moment then let them twitch. “Is she pretty then?”

 

Carson stiffened his spine. “I’m sure I didn’t notice.”

 

“But you noticed the trousers soon enough!” She crowed.

 

 

 

 

 

There were worse ways, Jack contemplated, of spending a Saturday afternoon. Their hostess, having given up trying to engage Teal’c in polite conversation, had latched on to Carter as a fellow American. Jack and the earl had found common ground in dogs and fly fishing and the old lady had monopolized Daniel. Jack wondered if Daniel realized the lady was sizing him up as a prospective grandson-in-law. And the food was great, he thought, as he snagged yet another scone.

 

He glanced at the large clock tucked amongst the multitude of books and reluctantly rose; he had a sinking feeling they were going to have to dynamite Daniel out of the room. “Well, kids, I think we’ve outstayed our welcome.”

 

Lord Grantham stood. “Not at all, Colonel. It’s been a most enjoyable afternoon. I’m just sorry the girls weren’t here.”

 

“Yes, what a pity,” the elderly lady stared without repentance at Daniel who, catching a gleam in her eye, bowed over her hand and winked outrageously. She tittered, feigning offense and tapped his hand with her fan. “Such a nice young man,” she sighed as the strangers departed. “It really is a shame the girls weren’t here.”

 

“Matchmaking?” Lady Grantham sat opposite her mother-in-law.

 

“Obviously, he wouldn’t do for Mary, but Edith or Sybil? They could do worse. Excellent manners, knows his place and with all those languages, he would be an asset at any dining table.”

 

“Even though he’s not titled?”

 

“One can get around the title if needs be. And a healthy dose of intelligence would only strengthen the bloodline. Not to mention, there is something to be said for attractive children. So much easier to marry off.”

 

*

 

Jack turned as they started across the drive, walked backward for a few paces as he squinted at the huge house. “Daniel, I must say I’ve never seen such groveling in my lifetime.”

 

“Jack, I told you, these are the people who funded most of the successful Egyptian digs. In archaeology, you learn early how to….finesse money out of them.”

 

“Hmm, I’d use another word.”

 

“Like?” Daniel asked in spite of himself.

 

“Schmooze was the word I was looking for.” He grinned at Carter’s choked laugh before looking back at the house. “Ten bucks says that Carson guy was counting the silver before we were out the door.”