One shot from a prompt from shana-rose: During Sybil's first week in Ireland Tom introduces Sybil to his old friends. Could go well or really bad.

After stepping into the dingy pub, Tom looked over at Sybil who'd just brought her hand to her nose in distaste.

"OK, meeting them here was a bad idea," he said.

"Don't be silly! I'm just not used to the smell of so much smoke—or did you forget that in my world women are not allowed to smoke with the gentlemen after dinner. I'll be fine, I swear it!"

Tom smirked. "These two are hardly gentlemen."

"And I'm hardly a wilting flower. Honestly, Tom, if you keep coddling me, it will just make it seem as if I don't belong here."

Tom looked down contritely, taking her hand. "I'm sorry, but it's OK if there's an adjustment period. It's only natural."

Sybil interlaced their fingers and leaned into him. "Forget Downton. Forget my title. Ireland is your home, and where you are that's where I belong."

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Well, here's a fool in love if I ever saw one!"

Sybil turned to see a heavy-set young man with a mass of curly red hair atop his head approach them. Tom pulled away from her and took a step forward, and the man wrapped Tom in a bear hug, lifting him clear off the ground. And no sooner had he dropped Tom that he approached Sybil and without so much as an introduction did the exact same to her.

Once her feet were back on the ground, she said with a smile, "You must be Damien."

"I see my reputation precedes me," he said, grabbing Tom again. "I hope you've only told her the good stuff."

"There's good stuff?"

Sybil looked around Damien to see who'd just spoken and another young man, this one with jet black hair and blue eyes, stepped forward. He came around Damien and gave Tom a hug, saying, "It's good to see you, Tommy."

Unlike Damian, this one eyed Sybil warily.

But Sybil had been expecting that.

On their way from his mother's to the pub where she would meet his best childhood friends, Tom had warned her, Michael will be the challenge, but it'll be easy to win over Damien. He loves everyone on sight.

Sybil stuck out her hand. "Sybil Crawley. I'm so very pleased to meet you."

Michael looked down at her hand, something like distaste in his expression. "Isn't it Lady Sybil Crawley?"

"Not for my friends," she said simply.

Michael was about to say something else, when Damien slapped the back of his head. "Just introduce yourself and be done with it. You're not here to impress anyone."

Michael looked at Damien from the side of his eyes and finally took Sybil's hand and shook it.

"Nice to know some things never change," Tom said with a smile. Turning to Sybil, he added, "Damien, here, was always telling Michael and me to mind our manners."

"An endless and thankless job, no doubt," Sybil said with a smile.

"If you only knew," Damien said, winking.

The group went over to a table in the corner and sat down.

"So how are you finding Dublin, Miss Crawley?" Damien asked.

"Oh, Sybil, please. I've only been here a week, but I love it already."

Michael snorted. Sybil sensed Tom tensing beside her and grabbed his hand under the table to calm him.

When the waiter came over to the table Michael ordered three whiskeys.

"Make that four, please," Sybil said.

"You really think you can keep up with the likes of us?" Michael asked.

"I've been drinking five different kinds of wine with dinner since I was twelve," Sybil said, not giving Michael an inch. "The question is whether you will be able to keep up with me."

"Is she serious?!" Michael said turning to Tom.

"Like the plague," he said with a laugh.

The truth was that Tom and Sybil had shared an entire bottle three evenings prior to "prepare" her for this very moment. She paid for it the next morning, but she was determined to make a good impression.

As soon as the server put the glasses down, without waiting for her companions, Sybil picked hers up and drank it in one go.

Damien laughed. "Milady, I think we're going to get along fine."

XXX

At the end of the night, all of them drunk on liquor and new and old friendships, the foursome tumbled out of the pub.

Michael stepped away a bit and lit a cigarette. He turned back to the group and said, "Well, Sybil, it was lovely to meet you. I must say you've changed—very minimally, mind you, but still, you've changed my opinion of English people."

Sybil laughed. "Well, don't rush to judgment on that because they're not all like me."

Michael stepped over and pulled her into a long hug.

"Hey, watch yourself!" Tom said quickly pulling them apart, "She's an engaged woman."

"Are you kidding?" Damien said with a hearty laugh. "This one still swears he'll die a bachelor."

"Ireland is my only wife," Michael said gravely.

Tom smiled. "Damien, why don't you take him home before he changes his mind."

After they had gone, Sybil turned to Tom. "See! They love me."

"I love you," he said quietly. "But we should get going or mam will lock us out."

Sybil leaned in for a long, slow kiss because it was too late, and they were too drunk to bother with propriety.

"Can we take the long way?" She asked. "I can think of worse things than sleeping in the park with you."

Tom smiled at her. "You really do belong here."

"I must say you've changed—very minimally, mind you, but still, you've changed my opinion of English people."

Sybil laughed. "Well, don't rush to judgment on that because they're not all like me.

This exchange is cribbed from Good Will Hunting.